chapter 5 - a splodge on the blogscape

I cannot understand how, when resources and technology were so primitive, the artisans of centuries gone by created such lasting beauty yet the artists of today seldom manage anything to match it.



If you have Broadband, click the pic ^ and be transported.

The kids' Sperm Donor has been hassling for weeks that he wanted me to provide him with a pic of the kids to get printed and framed for his mother's birthday. Despite me telling him I had no new pics worth doing anything with that she didn't already have.

Gimme pics. Something good that I can print. Blah blah.

pffftttt

So I did. I lined the kids up for a photo session ("Sit in front of Ads, no, closer" - "I'm NOT sitting any closer to him or I'll be touching his nuts" - "Shut up and do it, will ya??" etc etc ad nauseum)

OK so I got a pic without any bunny ear fingers, stupid faces and the like, but then it needed working on to make it look decent. And usually I like doing that shit (it was sort of my job, after all) but it's not fun when my hands are shaky and my arms hurt, not to mention the stinking headache and swollen eye with wonky vision I've had for 4 days.

But anyway, from a dreadful snap came this, which is all he's getting...



I'm waiting for the whinging to start because it's not the right colour, or not the right size or whatever he comes up with this time. I'm just in the right mood to supply a serve of fresh Shitfest a la Tish. It'll take my mind off a lawnmower wot needs a new blade (one that's not missing a chunk out of it from mowing a brick - oops, my bad) and the electric motor sussed cos it's given up singing and only hums a wee tune now.

PS - I wonder if I should send him a bill for my time? Usual rate. After all, most other people would get one.

*snort*

I bet you didn't know THAT!

Blood Moon.

Those of you unfortunate enough to know me well will likely know of my love for the moon. Almost as exciting as men in suits.

Hmmmmm suits...

Tonight, we had a special lunar treat, a lunar eclipse and what a ripper eclipse it was.

Enjoy.

I was going to open up the week with a spiffing little post about something almost no-one knows anything about, but I didn't have a very good day and now I really can't give a shit.

But stay tuned, there is more shit on back order. Please retain your proof of purchase.

Jamie and Mrs Jamie Flat Cat went to Erotica.

The grubby old buggers. I'm surprised he managed to keep up.

Apparently, there was all sorts of everything sexual there, condoms and costumes to bums, BOBs and boobs. I wish I had known they were going, I would have got him to buy me some fake boobs, not for me, for Pirate Boy for his birthday. He keeps whining he wants tits and he won't take the pills to grow his own because he says that's just wrong *rolls eyes*. I bet they had a suitable facsimiles at Erotica with less wrongness about 'em. When I win Lotto I'll buy him a Real Doll.

With extra tits, like these...



..mesmerising, aren't they?

That would shut him up. It would shut Adam up, too... hmmm...

Mary had a little skirt with splits right up the sides and every time that Mary walked the boys could see her thighs.

Mary had another skirt, twas split right up the front, but she didn't wear that one very often...

Why, when someone has just had a close call on their life, or the life of someone they love, do people say "you should buy a lottery ticket"?

Haven't they just HAD all their good luck?

*ponders...*

Australian Woman Killed By Amorous Camel

An Australian woman was killed by a pet camel given to her as a 60th birthday present after the animal apparently tried to have sex, police said Sunday...

The woman was given the camel in March as a birthday present from her husband and daughter. "She had a love of exotic pets,"

No shit she had a love of exotic pets. I wonder what the camel said - "One hump or two", maybe?

Inter-species relationships never really work out and that one really sucks the galactic muffin.

When I was a kid, I watched a programme on TV called Whodunnit. It was hosted by John Pertwee, whom I remember thinking was an excellent choice as host simply because if the people couldn't figure it out, Dr Who would.

Drs know shit.

So, every week, Dr Whodunnit had these people solving a mystery, and every week I waited with baited breath for them to finally have to answer real mysteries like "Why".

Why everything, really. Why is the grass greener on the other side of the fence; why does time fly when you are having fun yet drag endlessly when you aren't; why do the kids always manage to leave 3 squares of loo paper on the roll so I get to change it; why are some people satisfied with the earth, and others reach for the stars; why do Persian cats have such flat faces; why can't everyone just be happy; why do some people win Lotto while others can't win an even break.

Bit of a bugger the Dr died before they got to those episodes. Now I'll never know.

I have had a funny old MS week, and yes I'm harping on again because I think it might lead me around to something quite important, if I can just hold that thought long enough...

When I was a kid at primary school, the cool kids were cool and the rest were spastic. No one actually knew what spastic was, but we all knew it was some sort of cripple.

Kids are little fuckers, aren't they?

Anyway, as an adult I learned what spastic meant, and for the past 18 months or so I've been applying it to my daily existence in the form of spasticity in my spine and legs, causing me to jump around and cry out, arching and writhing in my bed.

Alone. When asleep, even.

You grubby bugger.

The end result of all these rigid spasms hitting me was awful lower back pain. Can't lie comfortably, can't turn over in bed. Can't... well, anyway, it was for these spasms that the doc gave me baclofen late last year, which in turn possibly gave me nystagmus which gave me a nasty feeling of deja vu when I recalled the utter fear I'd felt when my eyes had been threatened in the past.

Now, God knows why, in the middle of this current exacerbation I'm suddenly not spastic any more (5 good nights now), and my back doesn't hurt and I can sit more comfortably in my chair as I babysit the Internet all day so it's fed and warmed up ready for all the rest of you guys when you come home from work.

I knew there would be something I could do so as not to go screamingly mad from mind-numbing boredom.

It's the least I can do, after all.

PS How the hell I'm supposed to find somewhere to lie down anyway with this in my bed has me stumped.



Tommy likes satin, too.

I'd live here all alone quite happily, as long as I didn't have to get wet. And had all mod cons, shit-hot stereo and fast broadband. And a back-up generator, a library and a good supply of rustic pharmaceuticals and home baking. And brie on toast, endless macadamia nuts and Pandora's Box dispensing alcoholic beverages in the corner.

I might even invite one or two to visit. Shit I wish all those Irish and British and every other lottery I've won in the past year would pay out and we could have a party.

And then you could all sort of fuck off, so I could live there, quite happily and all alone. Ahh the blessed peace of it all, no kids.

PS If Tommy doesn't stop waving his hairy arse in my face, there'll be no pets, either.

I like watching surfers. No, not because they are half naked, muscled, often gorgeous with fabulous hair although of course that helps. No, surfing just looks fun, out there in the waves, gliding down big waves and riding them until they die.

Shame you have to get wet, eh? It's a right put-off that is.

But someone has developed surfing dry-style and it would suit someone like me who hates getting wet right down to the, er, ground.

It's the OSIM uSurf.

The uSurf is designed to simulate the motions of surfing, and to shape and tone targeted muscle groups. The uSurf has a wave-action deck, which rocks both back and forth and side to side, exercises your legs and core muscles. It includes a handheld tension cord, which you need for helping you balance for the first few rides and a infrared remote control makes it easy for you to change program without dismounting.

And it has 3 speeds!

It reminds me of Tim the Toolman's spa pool - that had 3 speeds as well - "slow, medium and who needs a man".

I wonder where I can get one of those? Not the uSurf, the spa pool!

There is this common misconception that even an idiot can use a computer, and to this end, Micro$oft (in their infinite wisdom) have made sure that every keyboard-hugging technophobe will know that they have installed a new program with the inclusion of a neat little feature that pops up in your Start menu when you click the Start button. That's the one bottom left, that's right, the one you use to stop your computer.

*rolls eyes*



See it there? That's right, the info balloon with the cheerful confirmation that you have indeed installed that program you downloaded, double-clicked and accepted all installation defaults for.

Unfortunately, it's not smart enough to tell you which application it refers to. Or that you have also managed to install Yahoo Toolbar. And half a dozen spyware-related hooks.

Now, that one up there ^ popped up last Wednesday, after I installed something that caught my eye and it hasn't gone away yet. I've installed at least half a dozen things since then, so I'm not sure if even that little balloon knows which app it refers to.

I sure as hell don't.

I think it's an internal ID10T error. It's name is "Windows".

Oh, it's dyin' time again, you're gonna leave me
I can see that far away look in your eyes
I can tell by the way you hold me darlin' Oooh
That it won't be long before it's dyin' time

I like Ray Charles, don't you?

What's dying today is what's left of my photographic memory. I can't picture things, like people's faces. A couple I can, but all the others are blurry and blank.

So I've had to put some facsimiles in place for them.

Having something akin to a photographic memory and video playback has been very interesting and useful in my life. Exams were usually quite easy (as long as I wasn't too stressed and tired, then things got a bit messy) and I could play back snippets of video of things I'd done and people I'd seen. I was very sad to see it dwindle the first time the MS flared and I'm very disappointed that on the first day in over a month that I've not only felt human but also had most of my physical faculties intact and actually accomplished something, I should lose a few of my marbles instead.


Maybe I just need my lenses polished and my heads cleaned.

Me and Tig have been having this conversation on MSN. About stuff. You know, everything we know about kids and health and men and women and sex and orgasms. That took about ten minutes.

Hmm that didn't come out quite right.

So then we back tracked and picked these things apart by elaborating on our latest findings.

Of course, hers were much more interesting than mine, apart maybe from my confession of one of my many vivid dreams I have when I sleep during the day. And I do a lot of day time sleeping. Some of them can leave a right nasty taste in the mouth, too.

Anyway, we rolled around to a bit of philosophical discussion, as ya do when you've had the sort of sordid excursions Tig and I used to have together and we got around to being spiritual and she asked me what I thought and I said that I think we are here via a sort of reincarnation with intent. So I think I might write a book about Camping and Reincarnation and what tools we should carry to help us on our way.

I think I could start with a frying pan, because if we don't have one to get into, how can we ever jump out of it into the fire all the time?

Suggestions for further utensils are welcome, but I bags the bucket and plastic bag latrine. I seem to be the one to handle all the shit this time around.

I stumbled over this today and it gave me a hell of a shock.

Wikipedia's List of people who have disappeared.

Check out 30AD.


PS

Well, Sunday morning actually.

His lordship has taken over my bed



and he's even taken my pillows. When I'm sleeping on them.



I suppose it could be worse, it could be Rowf. I wouldn't have dared to move him...

But Whips and Caines Excite me.

The TV promo just informed me that this Sunday night will see the return of my 2nd fav CSI program - CSI Miami. I think it has to be a spoof of CSI New York because some of the acting has melted cheese dripping down it, and there hasn't been a hurricane ('cuse pun) in it yet. And then there's yummy Horatio Caine (what was his mother thinking...), so self-contained and controlled on the top, oozing manliness at every pout of the lips and thrust of the hips... reooowwwwwwwwww

David Caruso might even be as yummy as to give Gary Sinise a run for his fancy badge as 'actor most likely to look bloody gorjus in sunglasses...and suits'

I am such a suit whore *sigh*

Rowf has disappeared.

Rowf has been gradually spreading his net of grumpiness for the past week or more to include stealing food late at night from Gloria's cats, at the other end of our driveway. he even threatened her with GBH when she caught him scoffing Fugly's tucker in her laundry. I told her that when he pulled that shit on me I smacked him one and he didn't try it again. And besides, Fugly has a better class of cat food - he gets single-serve sachets.

For about a week now, Rowf has been going out before dinnertime at night and coming home again for breakfast and to spend the daylight hours curled up in a cardboard carton, only he hasn't been here since Tuesday night and I think he is really a hobo who spends his life walking the roads, dropping in on hapless homeowners who feed him and provide a safe haven for days/weeks/months at a time while he regains condition, before moving on when the people he freeloads off get under his skin and start tugging at the remnants of his stone cold heart. And under his skin, we were indeed getting.

So au revoir, Rowf. May your way be filled with kind hearted suckers, and your belly filled with Whiskas Singles. And do try not to hurt anyone.

I saw my first one of these today.



Damn but my shopping list when I win Lotto is getting rather large...