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I think the custard slice might be the new gooseberry fool. It’s some custard between two layers of pastry, the toppermost of which has some pretty sweet icing on it. Sometimes only a “cream slice” is available, which I refuse to be associated with. Sometimes it’s called a vanilla slice, which reminds me of the confusion about where (if anywhere) the apostrophe goes in millonaire’s shortbread, which can be avoided by calling it a caramel square.
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Of course I’ve never posted anything on TikTok – I have a face for radio and a voice for print – but I sometimes look at things on it. (I recommend following the fellow who reviews tinned fish, and, believe it or not, Michael Barrymore.) This week, chillingly, I was banned … for an hour. As I’ve never posted anything, I guess I was consuming content with such listless voracity that some systems flagged me as an abusive robot, which is hard to believe.
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I bought some boots a while ago, and soon they’ll be in season, and they need breaking in. It’s often recommended to do this by wearing them for light duties around the house, but they feel too heavy for that – the clomping might disturb the neighbours downstairs. So now I have some blisters.
I’m surprised by the difference in quality between two different brands of blister plaster, or maybe being stored for too long makes them less sticky – as I’ve found by way of things falling off the walls, this is a problem with 3M Command™ hooks, damage-free hanging my arse.