It may as well rain until September

Rain!
It's a new month and the clouds gather not only on ominous horizons heavily suggesting the change of season is almost upon us but also in the darkness of the starry eyes of romantics too. It's a time when you just need a break from being on top of each other and I mean that in the best sense, oh and the other too!
We had a chat about things and I suppose all is well but its just too recent to be over with it. She's back at home and really excited about her upcoming audition and even though I'm disappointed that we won't be going to the TGC together I can at least share in her excitement and nervousness of her upcoming audition. I'll give the tickets to someone else. Even the most perfect couples have little stressful moments and arguments and misunderstandings and uncomfortable moments. That long awaited reconciliatory moment that brings the lost back together is a nice touch for when the pain is all over, that was a good idea in human relationships. But for the moment, I feel that I'm in the cold rain of mourning. Wake me up when September ends!

The tea in our office canteen has been relegated to the back of the shelf, where I can't reach, because a couple of the girls read an article about how drinking thirty gallons of coffee every day we are less likely to suffer uterine cancer. The speed of gossip appears to be much faster than that of light and scientists can investigate that one too! I think I'll have to produce an article about how depriving Momo from her tea is very dangerous and is likely to cause severe office tantrums on an equivalent scale of typhoons where things go flying through the windows. So many ills in the world is as a result of office gossips, I'm sure.
Who actually sponsors these tests? I mean does some crazy scientist wake up one morning and suddenly wonder about the migration pattern of leaves from deciduous trees in autumn?
I'm wondering if when I go to have my smear test and the doctor asks how much coffee I drink, it won't be because he's amassing statistical data but more likely he's asking me out for a 'Café Latte' and looking for a splash of whipped creme on top.
I think I'll hide the tea behind the sensible reading matter where they'll be unlikely to see it.

In a scientific survey carried out by Jazz:

The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.
The French eat a lot of fat and also suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.
The Japanese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.
The Italians drink excessive amounts of red wine and also suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.
The Germans drink a lot of beers and eat lots of sausages and fats and suffer fewer heart attacks than the British or Americans.

CONCLUSION:
Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.
I think my Ghost writer has lost her spirit.

Well, perhaps not, but it's easy to see just how many different round shapes fit into all the available round holes and you can easily make a lot of the simple data fit all the various crazy theories that abound the papers of these mad research scientists and others, academics and lay-people alike. Now if you'll excuse me for a moment, I've just seen that in 'Celebrity gossip magazine' there is a quiz on page 28 to see if my best friend will be my best friend 4eva an eva.

So what do you think about all these researched proposals?
Before you answer that, check out this one that suggests male/female relationship breakups are more likely the man's fault.
I can laugh because I always felt there was something wrong in a mans jeans!
Oppz, I mean genes.
Let me know what you guyz think!
I think my Ghost writer has lost her spirit.
Additional: One of my regular readers actually tried the 100 year photo machine and kindly sent me his image.
Thank you very much Andrew. Here is your image: