Terminal boredom (and how to relieve it)

Terminal 5 at Heathrow airport is clean and shiny and new and really very boring indeed. It seems to have been designed by people determined to homogenize the world, or at least the airports, into a sprawling mass of glass, steel and polished stone. Luckily, as I sat waiting for my connection to Stockholm, I was able to restore my faith in the madness and oddity of the human race by reading the Press & Journal:

FRONT PAGE - Grampian hospitals fight pest invasion

"Other incidents at Raigmore include silverfish in the food store..., beetles in the kitchen's hot-trolley area, insects in pudding rice... and worms in the breast centre."

(I'm not sure if it was written to convey the idea, but worms in the breast centre sounds awfully painful)

PAGE 11 - Teenager's head swells after cocktail

"A teenager's forehead doubled in size after she drank a cocktail in Greece. Corinne Coyle was taken to hospital after she reacted to a "secret ingredient" in the 10 euros mixture of Baileys, chilli powder, tequila, absinthe, ouzo, vodka, cider and gin. Doctors do not know whether the 19-year-old university administrator's head will return to normal."

(I envisaged her looking something like John Hurt in The Elephant Man, but the images published on the Daily Mirror website are extremely disappointing. More amusingly, they try to make it into a tragic accident, describing her woes as occurring after she "took a few sips of an exotic cocktail". The name of this exotic cocktail? Headfucker. The poor lamb certainly can't sue the bar owners under trades description!)
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