Fish supper Mad Liz style

SOME may be wondering why I refer to our sole photographer as Mad Liz. Well, there is a perfect reason for this and I think you will understand fully when I explain a few things.
Liz, you see, brings a whole new meaning to the phrase "chaos theory". She only has to enter a room to cause widespread mayhem among those unfortunates who are already there.
On Thursday morning there was a perfect example of this. Liz walked into the office and our reporter Catherine Mary rushed up to her. "We've got this model who's a long jumper and she is coming into the office to have her picture taken," said Cath quite reasonably.
"What, in a long jumper?" said Mad Liz.
"Um, no Liz, you don't understand. She is a long jumper," explained Cath, patiently.
"Well, she can't be," said Mad Liz.
"What do you mean she can't be? That's what she does. She competes in long jumping in athletics."
"Oh, I thought you were saying she's a long jumper - you know like a woolly garment. So you want me to take a picture of a woman modelling a long jumper?"
"No Liz, she isn't modelling a long jumper, she is modelling some other clothes. She just happens to be a long jumper."
"What, she's a garment?"
And on, and on, and on.
When Mad Liz finally gets the significance of what Cath has painstakingly explained to her, she starts laughing. And doesn't stop. And tells everyone who comes within half a mile of her. So much so that Robot, her rather fatigued boss, has to snap regularly, "ok, Liz, ok, can you stop now please and get on with your work there's lots to do."
"Yes, Rob," says Mad Liz, "But what happened was..."

Stories of Mad Liz are legendary. She regularly accompanies the Fab BB to Men dressed as Ladies night and has been known to invade the stage after a few sherbets. One time while the Fab BB was at the bar she was offered a small "drink" in a bottle. She drank it in one, realising far too late that it contained the drug most commonly known as poppers.
Her cooking stories are also highly amusing. She once complained the pizza she had cooked straight from the freezer was too crunchy - then realised she had forgotten to remove the polystirene base.
And on Friday night I understand she returned home rather tired and emotional after a few drinks, started cooking some fish and mash and promptly fell asleep. Four hours later she awoke to an awful smell - a mixture of burnt offerings and fish.
Apparently all her clothes now smell of this rather untempting concoction. Poor dab.