Fun with Words, Again

Helloes!

I've been playing with a certain automatic translator again. It makes me feel my job is worthwhile.

The phrase I fed it, this time, came from a packet of toilet rolls: they claim to be "doux et moelleux", which translates as something like "soft and squishy". Obviously no English-speaking toilet roll packet would use the word "squishy" (although I didn't think any English-speaking toilet roll packet would claim to be "kitten-soft", either, and THAT exists, God help us).

So. What did the automatic translator make of "doux et moelleux", then?

(Drumroll, please. Please? No? Why not? Naaaaaw, that's not very kind of you! Hmph).

Doux et moelleux: Sweet and mellow.

That is some seriously chilled out toilet roll we're using.

Bilingue

I have a bilingual computer.

It's a bit confusing for anyone who isn't me, but some bits are in French, some bits are in English, and none of it seems to follow any logical pattern.

I'm setting up backup discs at the moment, and my computer came out with this:

From No. No more penguins.

Don't you just love it when inanimate objects show a bit of personality?

(In case you're struggling to read it, click on the picture and it'll take you to the full-size version in Picasa. We has a technology now!)

The Beak

I know, I know, I've not been around much lately, apart from the occasional tweet (hey, have you seen my Twitter sidebar? Have you? Have you?) about being hungry, which is pretty much a permanent condition at the moment.

I have been translating. There has been much translating of the translatey stuff by the translator of late.

I have also been growing a beak, or at least, it feels that way.

I've suffered from (yes, suffered from is definitely the right phrase) cold sores as long as I can imagine, and, as my immune system's been a bit busy dealing with colds recently, they've got me again. That's what I really hate about them. They really do kick you when you're down. The swines. (I might use a stronger word here, but this is the Internets, and it doesn't do to say anything on the Internets you wouldn't want your parents/inlaws/younger siblings to hear. Close brackets).

Anyway, cold sores vary in terms of pain levels. Some look bad but don't hurt much, at least after the first day or so. Some make my whole face ache for a week. This particular one feels like I'm growing a beak, and ohhh, it HURTS. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa.

When I said "no more penguins", I thought that implied I didn't want to be one either. Clearly, I was wronk. (I meant to type "wrong", but I quite like "wronk", so I'm going to leave it there).

Back to the cupboard now (that's where the paracetamol is).