August 11th, 2009

Whale fluke

My words apparently speak in a surly Cockney accent

Words. They don't seem to like me right now. Specifically, they don't seem to like me if I start pondering an entry to post. They kind of grumble and shuffle around and just stand there. I think I heard some of them saying "Whatever" and, maybe, "...not the bleedin' boss of me."

In other words, I feel my journal's a little flat. It happens. (My comments have been better, though. Funnier.)

But, because I love you all and want you to be happy, here's Christina Hendricks being busty and curvy for Esquire. DEFINITELY not flat.
  • Current Music
    The Killers, "A Dustland Fairy Tale"


"Then one day, nearly two thousand years after one man had been nailed to a tree for saying how great it would be to be nice to people for a change..."

Here's a thought via fragbert: The teachings of Jesus can be boiled down to "Don't Be A Dick." Word.

Worth reading.

If you're spider-phobic, you may not want to read this, but

I like spiders. I don't flinch about least if they're under a certain size. (Size of my hand and up, then I start to get twitchy.) Anyway. Spiders.

Today I rescued one.

I'll count that as a good deed. I picked her up and got her away from someone who went all "A SPIDER A SPIDER!" and was flinching away from said spider. Spider was safe, spider-phobic person was safe, I was safe (spider-phobic person didn't hit me for not killing the spider, either!), all was good.

Which reminds me: a few weekends ago, my 9-year-old relative Markus tried to freak me out by putting a spring-loaded fake spider on my shoulder. (You squeeze a bladder and it hops.) I not only didn't freak out, I was saying, "Um, is there something alive on me?" and being careful how I moved in case that were so.

I've also had a long, long snake (I forget which species, but obviously not a poisonous one) around my shoulders, so I don't freak out about snakes, either. Hey, I need some superpowers...