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So here I am desperately typing whilst the spaghetti desolidifys.   Six minutes.  I though  it was cool a couple of years ago when I found a brand that did an 8 minute cook.  When my parents cooked pasta in the seventies and eighties I am sure it was 12-15 minutes.  Maybe it was just overcooked, or maybe I am seeing another symptom of progress.  Everywhere it is.

I open the freezer, barebones of course with gabo reintroduced, but on the white empty ice-cream box in the white interior I saw a pencil, a make-up pencil, with TRUE on the side.  Maybe it is a thermally controlled pencil that only says TRUE at certain sub-zero temperatures but I doubt it.  If I am right then this pen is going to be wrong half its life.  Which is still probably a lot better than most of us humans do even as we strive and strive to be right (or "correct" as S just interjected).  Statistically, an individual could probably be happy with 30 per cent correctness.

But it's still a lot worse than a makeup pencil.  And S refuses to laugh no matter how many times I say "The best part of having a fight with my boyfriend is the makeup pencil)".  Ah well, I can't expect my jokes to work 100 per cent of the time.

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