Drive-by here - just got in from a nice dinner party, must get some sleep as it's back to work tomorrow for a few days. (Still trying to work out how little I can work and still not have any money worries. Buying the car used up my whole 'cushion', so I may have to work a lot more than I'd like.)
Anyway, Shad, Caracara oranges are not blood oranges. The flesh is more the colour of a pink grapefruit, and the taste much sweeter than a blood orange. I think it's a cross between a navel and a tangerine or something. As for the pomelos/pummelos/shaddocks, they really do seem to be a calorie and nutrient bargain, and they're a little labour intensive to peel and section, which no doubt burns even more calories. Some people go to the gym, I peel pomelos...

I have a feeling they'd be on the banned list for people who can't have grapefruit with their meds, just thought I'd mention that to avoid lawsuits.
Every so often a small cyst I have on the back of my neck starts acting up, and right now I've got a lovely boil brewing there. Yikes. They do go away eventually, but are quite sore and nasty in the meantime, and of course leave quite an impressive scar. Maybe the pomelo luck will intervene and it'll just disappear with no bursting or scarring this time.
Mel, I've brushed the tire tracks off the blue suedes, shampooed the ciggie smoke out of my hair, and even volunteered to drive tonight as a good way not to be tempted by the wine at dinner... (excuse me while I go shine up my halo...) I like your new cat avatar too. Hope you're staying serene and calm and stress-free.

By the way, I think I'm with you on the meaning of 'twat' - crude Britishism for female naughty bit. The flowery twats thing was just an anagram for Fawlty Towers, for some reason the only one that I remember. Just goes to show where my mind is.
It seems to me Madcat is being awfully quiet - is it possible she got locked in the closet all by herself, and is still working on the dregs in all those gin bottles?
It's finally cold here, but probably not for long. (If the weather stayed cold, our Winterlude Fest would be a success, and we can't have that. We need at least 10 ultra-cold days to freeze the canal for skating. Ain't gonna happen...)
Happy, Ceejay, Meadow, and anyone I've forgotten:

Time to go put a poultice on my furuncle. (Maybe my close uncle too, while I'm at it.) Oops, starting to babble. This is what happens when I'm sober.
