Badgering the beef.

*Why does everyone badger the beef?
'What's the beef?' 'Where's the beef?'
What are you, its mother? Leave the poor beef alone! Go pick on gammon for a while.

Or, in fairness, the beef may be terminally indecisive and introspective. What is the beef? If I'm the beef, do I have a personal identity, or am I, or what is thought of as me, merely part of a collective?

I want a t-shirt with 'Badger the beef, harass the ham' on it.

*Today I managed to stab myself in the eye with a screwdriver. And my left thumb feels like I've broken it. On the good side, the worrying lump under my arm (which some of you already knew about) turns out to definitely not to be a tumour. So hurrah.

*Matt bought me an umbrella with The Incredibles on it. I love it. It's rained since I got the umbrella, but always when I'm on my way back from work, so I didn't have it with me. So, in a manner most pathetic, I resorted to taking a bin bag out to the big bin on the street whilst it was drizzling, just so I could use it.

Photo Time: the greatest hero of them all!

Matt in his parents' garden. Looking scowly.


The stream at the bottom of self-same garden.


It took me ten minutes to get a photo of Mhing the supercat not licking himself.








Finally...


Dead Pigeon in the centre of the road just up from the BDP. I risked my life for this shot.


Really happy graffiti. I have the image of the author of this just suddenly deciding that they needed the world to know!


The Scottish Hobo Society.


Riot! Anarchy! Rawk!


This one's a classic example of someone who didn't plan the spacing of their anarchist statement properly.