The Guinness Book of Records vs Milk of Magnesia

GOOD THING: THE GUINNESS BOOK OF RECORDS
I am a fan of random facts and pieces of useless trivia - in fact, I'm a bit of a savant in that area. A large chunk of my quiz-friendly knowledge is pop music-related, but most of the rest is thanks to a childhood spent reading The Guinness Book of Records. For many years I shunned children's stories in favour of learning about tribal women in Africa with very long necks, and an Indian man who stood motionless for several days, not to mention people with exceedingly long fingernails and facial hair. To be honest, although some of the 'Human Achievement' section was interesting, I wasn't that interested in 'The Natural World' or 'Science' - basically, I was fascinated by freaks. Okay, that's incredibly un-PC, and I take that back, but I was absolutely spellbound by people who - either by nature or choice - were astoundingly different. Check out the photo of the basketballer - it's amazing! At one point I had a collection of about 20 editions of The Guinness Book of Records, and had even read the very first one (1955, I think) when staying in an ancient holiday cottage in Scotland. That one mentioned Goliath in the 'World's Tallest Man' section, which seemed a bit archaic. I haven't owned a new edition of Guinness for several years now, but still have a collection of books of miscellaneous facts. I do wonder sometimes what I could do with my brain if it wasn't taken up with uesefull guff.

BAD THING: MILK OF MAGNESIA

My childhood was blighted by Milk of Magnesia. It was the standard medication doled out whenever I complained of a stomach upset, and it was bloody awful. Feeling desperately ill was always preferable to downing this evil concoction, and I actually think that my mum used it to gauge how sick I really was - if I was genuinely ill, I would take it. At one stage it began to be sold with a 'New Improved Flavour' label, which was minty and rancid - they even suggested that you mix the stuff with milk to make it more palatable, but the trauma was enough to turn you off milk for life. The thing with Milk of Magnesia is that my Dad did - and does - like it. He would down it at the first sign of even the tiniest of stomach aches, saying "Mmmmm, creamy!" The smell - and even the thought of it - is enough to make my stomach heave and my throat retch. Should have been banned at the same time as corporal punishment.