Raindrops and noses and whiskers on kittens...

Somethingty something and somethingty mittens...
It would be sad if the poor kittens had no noses. Or, y'know, raindrops.

Yes, it's random facts day again today.
There is, after all, naught of excitement under the BDP bar about 50 buttons that someone has left, and the odd large branch that has come down in the wind.

SO!
Today is brought to you by the number... er... 13. And the letter X.

Below is a tragically incomplete list of some of my favourite things.

SMELLS
Matches
Wood fires
Birthday candles
Lavender
Sandalwood

SIGHTS
Snow
Fire
Sparkles
Sunsets
Flowers
Trees

ANIMALS
Magpies
Rodents
Dogs
Most animals, really.

AUTHORS
Terry Pratchett
Tom Holt
Diana Wynne Jones
Robin Hobb

STUFF
Books
Surprises
Ribbon
Boots
Shiny things
Breasts
Internet
Cameras
Drawing
Blustery days
Bones
Black clothing

FOOD
Steak
Pizza
Pasta
Stuffed potatoes
Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie ice-cream

ARTISTS
Eduardo Paolozzi
Jack Vettriano
John Duncan

And now you can use that information to stalk me, I guess.

Woe, woe, woe...

I have a migraine. Migraines are hideous, evil things.
However, thanks to the swift action of Matt, and his bringing of aspirin, I think this one might be not too bad.

The ‘sick headaches’ of my youth, migraines as I got older, sporadic strokes and mini-strokes and so forth? Bastards, all of them.

I’m currently on meds to stop me having cluster-migraines, and I suspect I will be for the rest of my life.

*sigh*

Woe is me. Self-pity is the order of the day.
My head hurts.

Famous People I Find Attractive

1) Willem Defoe
2) Angelina Jolie
3) Neve Campbell
4) Johnny Depp (so teenager, I know)
5) Jeri Ryan
6) Liv Tyler

So, who do you think I've missed?

ETA 7) Rose McGowan!
How could I have forgotten her?

ETA (again) 8) Seth Green. Yummy.

Random Thoughts Day!

WARNING: I said random, not interesting. Read on at your own risk.

1) For some reason, me and Matt were discussing those Barbies (or Barbie type dolls) that looked pregnant, and then you could just take the front of her stomach off, and there was a baby that you could just pull out. Matt thought that people would disapprove because it would seem pro-Ceasarean, but I thought it was disturbingly educational, toy-wise. I’m all in favour of physically accurate toys for kids - I had a pair of baby dolls named (imaginatively enough) George and Georgina, and they were accurate, but this just seems like a step too far.

2) I have realised that it is impossible for you to hum or whistle a song you know the lyrics to without having a tiny part of your brain filling in the words. At least, I can’t.
I found this out when I was trying to get to sleep the other night. Matt was snoozing away, and the rhythm of his breathing started my internal jukebox, and switched it to ‘We Are Sailing’. But then I found the lyrics were getting in the way of me falling asleep, so I tried to hum it mentally instead, but it didn’t work. Weird, huh? (Ok, it might just be me that’s weird. I’m keeping my options open.)

3) Not only is today Random Thought Day and Talk Like A Pirate Day, it's also exactly six years since Matt and I got together AND I have the day off work. Well done me!

4) In BDP news, there were 60-odd empty palettes stacked against the wall next to the Bridge. It seems like they’ve been having more concrete block deliveries. There is still no sign of the blocks themselves. Maybe they’ve opened a rift in space and are keeping them somewhere a billion miles away, where only the Pigeons can access them.

Actually, that would explain the other bit of weirdness featuring the Bridge. One of the Pigeons went mental and attacked the wall. For a good five minutes. Perhaps it was desperately trying to find the rift.
Oh! Even more devious idea – what if it were a young Seagull in disguise?


Oooooooooooh. And Yaaarrr, Jimlad.

Thinking about Pharoahs

Now, again, no pictures from the BDP. I know. I’m sorry. I suck.
However, there is news.
Over the last couple of days there’s been random Dead Pigeons in the road when I am on my way to work. They don’t appear fresh, but rather squishy and grey. When I return from work, there are no Dead Pigeons, and no sign that they’ve ever been there. It clearly isn’t due to road sweeping or suchlike, as other bits and bobs under the Bridge are undisturbed. What does this mean? Are they hiding the evidence, or am I hallucinating Dead Pigeons?
And, in other news, the spirals are back. But only in a small patch under one end of the bridge.
Here's a question... What do you think the Pigeons were doing with 14 palettes of concrete blocks? Maybe they're building a new bridge. Hmmm.

Non-BDP stuff! Feel free to stop reading at this point.

I like so-called 'mommy blogs'. They rarely make me feel broody, but some of the writing's fantastic. Mimi Smartypants reminds me a lot of me, in some ways, and I picked up her book second-hand, and absolutely (but not literally) devoured it. Then I wanted more. Finslippy was next. Then Julia. Then Laid-Off Dad. (I guess that's a 'daddy blog'...) I wonder why people look down on parenting blogs. I bet they'd look a lot further down on mine. These people are funny and interesting, and that's why I like to read about what's going on in their lives. So screw you, blog snobs!

I was in Glasgow yesterday for work, and I managed to sneak off for a bit to go to my favourite big art shop. I got markers and exciting new papers, and sketchbooks (O, how I love sketchbooks!) I also got a postcard, which just appealed to me.



When I got it home, I turned it over, and found it was by the same woman (Stella Marrs) as my ‘fond of books’ postcard I posted earlier. Who’d have thought, eh? Mind you, they’re quite similar in style, so I suppose people more observant than me might’ve. Oh well. Anyway, this is her website.
And I may or may not have just gone there and ordered a few more of them.
*looks innocent*

And this monstrosity of a ring was from the nice new ‘alternative’ clothing shop that’s opened up right next to the art shop. Staffed entirely by little folk. That's teenagers, not leprechauns, by the way.
I didn’t get a close-up look at it before I bought it, and when I noticed, it was too late to go and demand my money back.
Now, everybody play spot-the-flaw-that-enraged-me. Go on, you know you want to.

Bluster. And so forth.

I love blustery days. In fact, my very favourite sort of day is cool, with a bit of a nip and a snap in the air, and a big blustery wind.
Mmmmmmmmm.
It makes me feel all invincible and sexy-like, with my hair flying about.
I probably look like a cross between a Medusa and an idiot, but it's nice to feel invincible.

Now, as I was saying, I like blustery days, but I draw the line when my neighbour's window blows out.
*sigh*

I am THE LORD OF THE SCANNER!

Yes, despite the fact I'm a girl.
So there.

Here are pictures that Matt and I had done whilst on holiday. It was like a photo booth, but it took pictures of you when you weren't expecting it. So exactly like a photo booth.
It then made you pick one of the four photos of you looking like a fool, and converted it into a fake sketch.

Personally, I think they look like those pictures that are drawn of criminals because photographers aren't allowed in court.





And these are the four postcards I bought at the art gallery last week, culminating with my favourite, which I feel suits me so well, and made me laugh in delight for about five minutes.

Always with the excuses...

No Pigeons. Even the morbid little flag waving one has gone. Most bamboozling.
I am currently in the throes of migrainehood (my own fault for missing my medication), so I'll make this quick.
Two new hamsters. Bought on Saturday. Went to the petshop for mouse food.
Both very cute. One is pale, pale tan with a white stripe. Named Vishnu. Fluffy.
Other is dark brown. Very tiny. HUGE ears. Named Baal. Possibly an awful lot to live up to. Sleek.
Photos will be forthcoming.
Although the act of taking a photo of Baal will probably make him scream.
Now, that's disturbing.

Philosophy 0.0000101

First off, sorry. There's still no pictures. Bear (or bare, whichever) with me on this. I promise my holiday snaps include one of my brother walking on water and pretending to be Jesus.
I am a bad girl, and self-flagellation shall be forthcoming.

Secondly, my condolances go to Acci. Fred was a wonderful little guy, and the best millipede I ever knew.

Now. Here's a thought. Treasure it, because they don't come along very often.

When I headed back to work yesterday morning, there was no sign of any Dead Pigeon activity (you know what I mean) under the BDP. It looked like there had been nary a one in all of the time I was away. The pavements were coated in poo and little feathers, but there were no signs of actual fights, gouging, maiming, or death. Curious, hmmm?

By the time I was walking home, there was a Squished Dead Pigeon in the road, three white feathers upstretched in a morbid flag of surrender.

Now, you know that thing about observing, and the act of observing changing the observee (obviously, I'm paraphrasing here)? Is it only my act of observation that causes their deaths?
I'm sure I could put something about Schrodinger's Cat in here somewhere, but I'm happy even if I get to use the word paradoxical. Which I just did. Although it isn't. Well, the cat may be, but I'm pretty sure the Pigeons aren't.
Ow. My head.

Oh, and purchases at the art gallery shop yesterday consisted of postcards, which I shall scan for you when I am at home, a book of reprints of vintage Halloween images, and a very beautiful sketchbook, which I am afraid to draw in just in case I ruin it.

Woo! Rambling!

Did you miss me?

So, on the advice of Snowy, I shall leave the lengthy update until I can post pictures too.

Suffice to say, Matt, Paisley and I are safely back home on the ranch.
Lots of fun, fighting, and injuries were had during the holiday, but we are all still in one piece. Well, three pieces. Well, one each.
Bugger't. You know what I mean.