I put up my hand.
"That's a surprise," he said. "Usually only those over 40 still use the command line."
All the kiddies in the class pointed at me. I sank under the table.
Because of the bad audio system he thinks everyone has names other than the one we actually have. I'm Ben (Den) and there's Darrel (Jarred), Stuart (Gerard) and Nigel (Nigel). So we call him Popping. It all works out in the end.
And now, this:
Now you may think I'm being overly obvious here - everyone knows TV dinners are bad for you, right? This is true, but Swanson's new breakfast takes it to a level which previously could only be achieved by eating entire alternate universes made only of prosciutto. I'm being totally serious - I'm obsessed with reading those stupid nutritional labels on everything in the supermarket, and to date, I've never seen anything quite so decidedly heart-killing than Swanson's Hungry Man Breakfast.
Perfect for Fat Tuesday.