soundtracktotodaysentryisneedlegun

Today's bouquet of yay!-ness goes to the amazing Milly, who got Codename: Icarus right on the nose as one of the sources of scary shite in my subconscious.

I therefore dedicate this picture of a white California Ground Squirrel to her:

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With the purchase of Kate Mosse's Sepulchre¹, my pre-Xmas travails are now complete.
Today's job is to deal with the flurry of paper and sellotape involved in making them look pretty.

I'll admit it: my origami skills aren't up to scratch for wrapping presents. Even the easiest of box shapes comes out looking like a civil war has gone on inside the paper whilst nobody was looking.

And exactly how one would wrap a teapot…²

Some Xmas presents have been put off, however: B. and I decided to wait for the New Year sales [and, more importantly, a New Year paycheque] before doing any serious shopping.

Which means, damn and blast, I've got to wait another few weeks before I skip around in these…³

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 footfetishnotes:
1 That's Mosse with an "e". Although I did wonder for a moment exactly why my mother asked for a book by a bulimic cocaine-toting piss-poor-excuse for so-called human beauty…
2 Answer: One doesn't, one shoves it in an old Amazon box and puts old carrier bags in to fill up around it.
3 Thank you, Mr or Mrs Faith, for your size 9 range – if I could set up home in one of your stores, I would.

soundtracktotodaysentryiswhateveryouwant [apologies, my musical sense seems to have disappeared temporarily along with my marbles]

Recovery continues: mornings are still a biatch, but otherwise I'm approaching my "normal" state of life.

I know I'm not flapping, because I've just done most of my Xmas shopping online and my brain didn't go "agh, Xmas, oh froooooooooog…."

B., bless her, is not a consumerist type: no Wii, iPod or GHD branded goods will grace her lap on the 26th¹ – all she's asked for is the DVD of "Truly Madly Deeply"², although other things may also arrive. [Tesco round the corner from hers are selling a particularly nice red teapot.]

Laugh-Out-Loud Moment Of The Day:

For the minute, instead of having music on at full blast in the car, I'm going through my archive of comedies. At the moment, it's Hamish And Dougal: You'll Have Had Your Tea, a tale of highland folk whose double entendre per minute rate exceeds even mine ["Dougal - you'll have had your tea!" - "Aye, I had a cream horn" - "...och, you're okay, it does nae show"]

But what particularly caught me was this from their Indiana Jones pisstake episode:

Dougal: "Quick, let's hide in that cave!"
Hamish: "No, it's full of spiders!"
Dougal: "Okay, we'll hide in that next cave."
Hamish: "No, it's full of snakes!"
Dougal: "Right… How about hiding in that Starbucks?"
Hamish: "No, it's full of wankers!"

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 footfetishnotes:
1 Plans are to be at relevant family on the day itself, and together on the day afterwards. Which fits just nicely; otherwise I'd run into accountant Conservative wankhead sister…
2 Not, it must be admitted, my favourite film of all time, although I do enjoy the hopping.

soundtracktotodaysentryisthedreaming

Strange parcel this morning; a box of Maltesers and a card;

Which is my reward for fixing a gorgeous person's website. Thank you!

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So I've drawn something for her in return -

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There's several things I was musing about blogging on the way home from B.'s tonight: unfortunately none of them are really suitable for this site as it is right now. I think the best thing I can do is post a none-too-subtle hint of the kind of area I'm talking about, and leave the rest of it to your imaginations²:

Damn. Time to think about the obligatory-pervy-second-blog again…

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 footfetishnotes:
1 Note for non-UK-or-Australian residents: this is the catchphrase of artist, presenter, singer and unexpected contributor to several Kate Bush albums [see soundtracktotodaysentry] Rolf Harris. Doing justice to this man and his impact on British culture is way beyond the scope of this footnote.
2 Which I know are warped, or you would have moved quickly on elsewhere months ago.

soundtracktotodaysentryissoon

Before I start this entry there will be a short teapot:

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Silly Things For Today:

- I uploaded this for the gorgeous Sanji, but you'll enjoy it too: The Mark Steel Lecture on Mary Shelley, including why Frankenstein was about revolution rather than about various bits of dead people, and why it's not a good idea to have sex on your mother's grave.

- We have a Wii, thanks to distant-relative-of-somebody-in-Dagenham. Must… resist… temptation to hook it up before Xmas and practice so I can beat crap out of P.-the-younger on Sports on Xmas day…

- New Mighty Boosh starts tonight. That is, if you've got digital TV. If I didn't have, I'd be writing some very, very angry letters right now…

- And tomorrow night is another round of "Crap Shite In The Name Of Charity For One Night On TV, And If You Don't Participate You're An Unfeeling Shit Who Doesn't Deserve To Live", aka the annual Children In Need telethon, raising money for all those things for needy children that the Government used to fund but cutbacks have meant they're short of because they've found better things to spend the money on [like cluster bombs].

I have, however, loaned my nurses' outfit to a friend for their Staff Fancy Dress Day at the local supermarket.

…at least, that's what she said it was for….

soundtracktotodaysentryiscummingintomyown

It's past midnight and into Wednesday as I type, and nobody has complained that Rude Giraffe Tuesday has passed without a new episode. So who am I to continue inflicting it upon the public?

Which is a relief in some ways, because I was going to have him say nothing but "teapot" for the next seven weeks¹.

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I've gone over thirty-five years of my life thinking it was "Halfway Up The Stairs"; but after some days of slightly heated discussion B. conclusively proved tonight with the help of Nameoftowndeleted Library that it's halfway down the stairs.

I blame Mrs Williams in Lower Infants C, St Edwards', 1978.²

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Most poetry passes me by anyway; the only poet I've ever wanted to read or listen to for more than five seconds without screaming is John Hegley.

If you want to know why, try the audio file of "A Love Poem By My Dog".

Mr. Hegley is one of the few good things about Luton, alongside Ian Dury, Kenneth Williams and the town being famous in an ancient Python sketch as the constituency which elects Tarquin Fin-tim-lin-bin-whin-bim-lim Busstop F'tang F'tang Olé Biscuitbarrel as their Silly MP.

Stupid Fact: Ten years later in a by-election someone actually changed his name to Tarquin Fin-tim-lin-bin-whin-bim-lim-bus-stop-F'tang-F'tang-Olé-Biscuitbarrel and stood as a candidate for the Monster Raving Loony Party.

He got 223 votes.

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 footfetishnotes:
1 This derives from an ancient edition of "I'm Sorry I'll Read That Again" where, as you'll hear if you click el linky, the performers posit that anything not funny but presented as a joke becomes funny if you repeat it often enough, then proceed to demonstrate it by repeating "teapot" over and over again.
2 And not just for that; the fact it was a Church of England school meant she pumped all sorts of unwanted shite into my head. [This is not to denegrate anyone's beliefs in Xian-things, merely stating my opinion that kids should not be exclusively taught about one faith system like I was.]