Mad skillz I don’t have and wish that I did:
Mad skillz I do have and wish that I didn’t:
Last night was much like any other Saturday evening around here. There I was, sewing matching superhero capes for the Curmudgeon and I*, when the opening strains of ABC’s abysmal Bed of Roses started up from the telly. But he was cooking and I was sewing and we were, you know, occupied.
“They should invent a random button,” he called out.
“Oh yes. We’ll call it the Anything But That Button.”
The idea is that in such a situation, when you don’t care what you watch as long as it’s not Bed of Roses or something equally dreadful, you can slam the big red Anything But That Button and receive immediate respite.** Genius.
*True. If you saw two dashing caped crusaders tearing around Brunswick on their bikes last night, that might have been us.
**Some might say that the OFF switch already does this job.
I was carrying some stuff to work that didn’t quite fit in my bag. I set it on the cafe table while I waited for my coffee to arrive.
When it did, the waitress asked, “Fish for lunch?”
We have that! We have a home without cats!
George is lovely but I suspect the main reason I like him is that when people ask what he is, I could tell them, quite earnestly, that he’s a Poohound.
If you can offer George an abode free of felines, contact the good people at Save-a-Dog.
The Cumudgeon modelling my latest craft extravaganza:
This scarf blanket should be done by winter when we’ll actually need it. Unless the moths eat it first.
Lordy I’m hungry.
Aquatic exercise beats terrestrial exercise hands down. Weightlessness and free of sweat.
We humans really come in a remarkable diversity of shapes and sizes and colours, don’t we? Then you add all the stuff we do to ourselves… haircuts, tattoos, speedos…
Imagine if man lumps were as fetishised and showcased as lady bumps.
That guy over there looks like a baddie from one of the Curmudgeon’s comic books. Or maybe a sturdy USSR citizen from a propaganda poster full of happy agricultural communists.
Lordy I’m hungry.
My Ma was, and is, a splendid mum. When we kids were whippersnappers, she had a series of phrases that could send us into hysterics. We’d laugh and laugh and get her to say them again and again. We thought she was the funniest person in the word. They included:
“Same to you with brass knobs on.”
“Hootsman Hoots mon! There’s a moose loose aboot this hoose!” **UPDATE: Vetti found this song! Check the comments….
And I seem to remember a character called Esmerelda Kafoops, who popped into my head this morning and sparked this nostalgic hilarity.
If you want to create your very own zombie dolls to terrify the bejeebus out of small people, you can buy this pattern.
You know, it’s not just the eyes. I don’t like the way Annie’s hair is marching down her forehead, like it’s an advancing army of hair. Perhaps it’s a before/after picture?
There have been probing questions about Consuela’s size and forthright demands for comparisons of scale. I hope this photograph adequately illustrates her astounding bigness.
livebird 
