stickybeaks and tom waits

Just spoke to a friend who was concerned for my wellbeing, based on his reading of this blog! He said my ‘about me’ bit (‘I don’t even know who I am’) read like 3am, maudlin, too much Tom Waits, bottle of gin, warm bath and a razorblade territory… crumbs, chums!

For the record, I am completely happy! Perhaps I need to address my dry, slightly self-deprecating style.

Today a car drove past our newly-built office, and I suggested that it was some locals having a stickybeak. This met with quizzical looks from my colleagues. You know, being nosey, like a nosey parker. A quick survey of the office (the 3 other blokes) revealed that none had heard the term ‘stickybeak’ – which leads me to conclude it must be an Aussie-ism.

Fair enough, but it just seems odd that it’s taken me 2-and-a-half years of living in Wales to discover that the word stickybeak has no local relevance…