Tech Eye: Good help is hard to find
The neighbors, it seems, were yammering on to the local fuzz about our humble domicile being "inhospitable to life" and "hemorrhaging an infernal reek." When The Man came a-knocking, we simply explained that they were jealous and that we'd hired a professional decorator to create a "hi-tech feng shui" for us. Moreover, we pointed out that while our lair is littered haphazardly with bits of technical goodness, the teetering towers of gizmos and widgets lend us professional credibility.
Alas, the coppers didn't fall for it. The report they filed made repeated reference to a "demilitarized zone" and Techeye was ordered to clean the place up, upon pain of eviction. Though we're not the sort to take such silliness too seriously, we'll take any opportunity to hire a French maid (Yom Kippur, for example), so we set about searching for any feather-duster wielding female about town. Unfortunately, it appears that this time our reputation preceded us and nearly all the best maids went into hiding (Hildegarde was available, but her nosehair-cum-goatee frightens us).
With little choice, we went with the next-best option: a French butler whose name sounded something like Gibblets. Monsieur Gibblets was short, stocky and wildly flamboyant (imagine a swashbuckling fire hydrant) but could assume the most impeccably starchy of airs if the occasion called for them. He was an immense help for the week he lasted as our employee, but tragically met his doom when a Ms Pacman arcade game toppled over. Still, he spruced the place up enough that the neighbors were satisfied and our den was pronounced "fit for habitation."
Every once in a while Techeye starts to miss old Gibblets, although he did leave a nifty Rorschach-esque blot on the floor (we think it looks like Whistler's Mother). That's why the discovery of the Voco Clock was so exciting for us. This gadget employs the obsequious, posh voice of Stephen Fry to rouse you from sleep - "I'm very sorry to disturb you sir, but it appears to be morning" - and despite Mr Fry's obvious lack of Frenchness, it still reminds us of our dearly departed man-maid. For anyone pining for their own domestic lackey, the Voco Clock can be had from www.voco.uk.com for around zł.149 (plus shipping and handling).
