Global wheat production, whisky league tables, and Hawaiian trade statistics (Rousse)

This time I really had gone too far. Why would the students need to know about global wheat production and whisky league tables in an introductory about Knowledge Management? Sure, the images that I used were beautiful, but surely there was something more relevant to discuss than the detail of Hawaiian trade statistics for spirits?

PC patiently sat through the beautifully composed slides. He suggested (kindly) that they were meaningless without narrative, and possibly more suited to a keynote presentation rather than an undergraduate lecture.

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When breasts head south (Rousse)

I hadn’t expected to bump into London-based SW in the Outer Hebrides. Yet here she was, as large as life, all aglow in a bright orange, and very clingy, T shirt dress, lounging lazily on the seat of a bus that was heading back to the mainland.

I recognised SW immediately, but what had become of her breasts? She looked so flat-chested that I soon concluded that she had arranged the surgical removal of her formerly magnificent bosoms. Then I saw them almost hidden, laid flat across her knees.

I knew that I should take this opportunity to ask SW about the research project that we had planned together but never realised. However, I was too distracted by the sorry state of her figure to do so.

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A marriage break-up for a mother (Rousse)

From the way that he addressed me, the young man who now worked at CodeBase was obviously a former student of mine. I did recognise him (sort of), but had no idea how long ago he had attended my classes, nor his name.

Then he told me the shocking news that JA’s marriage had broken up. She had abandoned her husband in Edinburgh with the new baby in favour of moving to Ireland so that she could care for her dying mother.

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A near-miss kiss (Rousse)

I enjoyed my dark morning walk through the Edinburgh Old Town with KW. He told me of the antics of his teenage children and his son’s interest in a TV documentary about tailoring. I suggested that a career in watchmaking would keep the older boy out of trouble.

At the same time I reminisced fondly (and silently) about my near-miss kiss with KW of many moons ago.

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A blond boy with no body (Rousse)

From photographs I always knew that N was a special little boy. It was only when I met him in person, however, that I understood the reason why.

N was nothing but a head topped with blond hair. At night he was lifted into a tiny cot made from stickle bricks.

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Dalek Rolls Royce kidnap (Rousse)

I remembered that I had not been able to find a large enough space to leave my white Rolls Royce in the car park next to the river. Now I had also forgotten where I had eventually left it.

Nevertheless, I offered EH a lift back to Stockton as we sneaked out of an under-attended Friday afternoon meeting of the professoriate on campus. (We reckoned that if the person who called the meeting was away house-hunting in Cornwall, we had every right to bunk off too.)

Out in the dark street in the drizzle, EH and I considered our options for tracking down the car. The strategy that worked was to point the television remote control skywards. The Rolls Royce came spinning through the heavens to earth just like Dr Who’s Tardis. Unfortunately a battalion of angry Daleks was following closely behind.

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Dogs days with Sir Sean Connery (Rousse)

Mine was one of the first families drafted to perform anti-terrorist service. We lined up inside a long plastic tent at the junction of Queen Street and North St David Street in Edinburgh, following the instructions of the police to bunch up together as closely as possible with all the other ‘volunteers’.

I soon started to feel claustrophobic and hot. I found a small hole in the clear plastic sheeting and pulled it apart to let myself out.

My punishment was instant. First I was transformed into a small dog. Then I was sent to live out the last of my days in a remote wood cabin with Sir Sean Connery as my only company.

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