AUBREEVISION - Observations from the far side of the dial

"What do you want, you old tart?"

That's Boss #1's phone greeting of choice when Boss #2 phones the gym. But she's British, so it comes out more like "What d'you wunt, y'old tahhhht?"

I enjoy this immensely. Talk about the ultimate all-purpose greeting!

Said boss also refers to the gym's weight-loss support group as the "fatty club," which is equally amusing. And it isn't offensive because being rather plump, she jovially counts herself among the "fatties."

Yesterday while en route to work, my bag began to lactate. Now, by "bag" I'm not referring to an udder I keep tucked between my legs. Rather, a container of milk in my bag sprung a leak, as I discovered when it seeped through onto my lap. By the time I got to work my tea-milk supply was a quarter of what I had started with, and my bag left a big white splotch wherever I set it.

Today, my pants smell faintly curdled.