We went to what is now Croatia earlier this month to visit her family, who, as you might expect, are a bunch of toothless, chattering, Cro-Magnons who live in an upturned water butt and worship a plough. At night they try to grab the stars out of the sky, thinking they are the fruit of a magical tree, and their diet consists mostly of seawater mixed with wine, olive oil and squid ink.
Not really: they're just normal of course, even though the nearest McDonald's was 200 miles away, and Croatia and its people are far nicer than anything the UK has to offer.
Also, the country has the widest array of Tuc biscuits seen anywhere in the world; roast chicken flavour, bbq flavour, sweet chilli flavour - heck, they even had Milka bars with Tuc biscuits embedded in them. And to think: you had Croatians pegged as a backwards, regressive species. You utter racists.
Still, it's probably just as well Yugoslavia is gone, really, if the casual sexism on the covers of the country's pre-war computer magazines are anything to go by. Here are eleven of them.
I think she's meant to be looking seductive, but if anybody entered their office and found this tableaux before them their natural instinct would be to run away or jump out of a window. It's the combination of wild hair and that glare which does it, I think. And maybe the way she's subtly stroking the back of a draft excluder with her index finger. There's some sort of implied threat in it.
"I'll exclude YOUR draft!"
"I'm sorry?"
But look: she only has two leads, so that big black tower unit could run away at any second and start rubbing rudies with an ATM. Also, I hope she's going to clear up after her computers.
What sort of waste do computers produce? Megapooopoooo110110101010101010101poooo!
Yes: one of them has gone right up her bumhole!