It's not because my passport's expired. Really.

I don't know these two

Now, I know it's Hallowe'en, but it's pointless being abroad* as there're so many looky-likey witches out there, that a real one such as myself will go unnoticed.
So, instead of going out terrorizing the neighbourhood, I'm going to go to Indescribable's to be terrorized by her lack of housekeeping. Honestly, there aren't so much dust-bunnies under her furniture, as dust-bears. And some of them haven't been fed in weeks!
Besides, I have a funny feeling in my water that something odd is going to happen. My precognition has been all over the shop lately. Why, only yesterday I wrote this, only to find today that I hadn't but I will do tomorrow. The fact that tomorrow seems to be funnelling into today has really upset things, and I really don't want to have to get Chronosfear around here again. It took a week and a half to get rid of the lingering smell from his last visit.
Anyway, if you're reading this and it's not Hallowe'en, then I must've been sidetracked. Sorry. Come back yesterday.





* Not actually foreign abroad. In fact, not even over the river to Trowse!

* pop! *

If this doesn't cheer you up (or revolt you), nothing will...



Ta dah!
* jazz hands *

Arrival

Hooray! I will not be known as The Blogger Who Lost The Freakin' Green Elf Shorts! They are now safely in the hands of their new owner, ErosWings. Go and read the sordid account of his escapades with them so far. The perv.

I've updated the map, too. The 'Shorts were delivered to Corpus Christi, but are now in Galveston. Quite what the reincarnation of Megatron wants with them, I don't know?!

Excuses

One of the reasons for my lack of posting recently is that NonExistant Boy has been hogging the PC. He exudes an aura of nothingness, which makes noticing him, or anything near him, extremely difficult. Consequeyntely, I'd pretty much forgotten about blogging and the like.
It's only while I'm sat in front of a PC at work that I remember, and I'm usually far too busy to be blogging. Even during my lunch break! Today is different, however. Today, I have put a pox on work which has left me free to dilly-dally on here for half an hour.

Needless to say, because I'm at work, I daren't visit some of you for fear of falling foul of The Security Sheriff and his wicked GSI Proxy Demon. Not to mention the fact that The Big Bad Manager sits behind me and can see everything on my screen!

Of course, this doesn't worry me so much, it's just that I need the Host to retain his job to keep me in the manner to which I'm accustomed. Which is hardly royal opulence, come to think of it.

Anyway, suffice it to say, I may post something of significance at the weekend, and try and visit you all, too. And, if I can be arsed to pull my finger out, I may do a Hallowe'en Post on Wednesday.

Don't hold your breath, though.

P.S. I see that Time Travelling Tart, Cyfa, has been doing the rounds.

Firestarter

Ladybird, ladybird, fly away home

Your house is on fire and your children are gone

All except one, and that's Little Anne

For she has crept under the warming pan.

I've just seen one of these in the garden: Exochomus 4-pustulatus, the Pine Ladybird. Striking isn't it?

Catlitteracy

Inexcuseable has got another cat.

Well, a kitten to be precise.

Now, as you may or may not know, I'm not a cat person. Or even a person who likes cats.
Inexcuseable's original two cats I don't mind because they run away and hide whenever I'm around. As well they should! Most cats of my acquaintance are selfish, uppity users who have little regard for anything other than themselves.
So you can imagine my disapproval when I got the call saying I had to come around and see my new 'nephew'. The Parents aren't all that thrilled at suddenly becoming 'grandparents', either.

Like the good and proper sibling that I am, I dutifully arrived at Inexcuseable's to see this new family member.

"Where is the little git, then?" I asked in lieu of 'hello'.

"His name's Spike!" my sister retorted, pointing to the living room.

I swept in, taking in the room with a stern glare. Movement caught my eye, and there, attempting to scale Mount Bookcase, was a small starfish surrounded by silver-grey fluff.
Inexcuseable barged past me and scooped up the intrepid creature, turning it around and almost thrusting it in my face.


"Awwwwww! He's so cute!" I surprised myself by blurting out.

I waggled my fingers at him and made a face like a spacker. He hissed.

Awww... Still cute.




This doesn't mean I like cats. Just a small minority of kittens.




P.S. Inexcuseable's not pregnant. Just fat.

40watt bulb

I can't compete with photos of PCs or decapitated Bloggers jigging around in the Wild West. I can't even muster up the enthusiasm for a bit of lecherous flirting at Tim's, so I'm just going to have a bath.

I might be arsed to post something in a couple of days.

Meh.

731: The Penny Drops

Wait a minute...


How did that time-travelling tart, Conrad Folkard-DeVice, remember shagging Knight? He couldn't've remembered because it never happened to my SubC that's hosted by him. I'd already been summonsed by that point in C F-DV's history, which means I never discussed SuperNatural Origins with Knight, and therefore never caught them 'at it' for the SubC to remember!

I've been right all along. Conrad is a tart! Time-travelling or otherwise.

I blame you for this.

Me?! You can't.

Why not? You're the one that remembered him shagging Knight.

No I'm not. You've just said that he couldn't have remembered because he's not from our timeline.

You should be blaming Knight for being so easy!

Oh, he's not easy. He's just gullible. Naive twat.
Grrrr... Now I don't know how to feel about this. Conrad obviously lied to Knight about having-to-shag-him-because-he-remembered-it just to get a shag! Isn't there anyone in his own time he can shag?

Perhaps there's no one quite like Knight? Mmmm...

Shut up you! You're not helping.

Hmmph!

Procrastination

Idle thumbs are the Devil's tools.

Italian Stallion

Another night out, another disappointing foray into bagging a man.

Why is it that all the single, eligible Gayers are horrendous, but all the Breeders are gorgeous?
Martin at the Italian we went to last night is one of the latter. Cute arse, narrow waist, broad shoulders - Yes, I mostly saw him from behind - All for naught.
The waitress very helpfully informed us that he was straight. Although, she did say that sometimes she wondered... Anyway, our eyes met a couple of times, and both times he just half-smiled shyly and disappeared into the kitchen. Bah!


Bring on the alsations - So I can be found three weeks later half eaten by them, not for anything else, SID.

And they're off!

Actually, the title for this post reminds me of a joke, which, rather sadly, has kept me amused today.

Four people all wanted to watch a different programme on telly.
One wanted to watch the athletics on BBC1.
The second wanted to see the wrestling on ITV.
The third wanted to see the Cambridge/Oxford boat race on Channel 4, and the fourth wanted to watch Songs Of Praise on BBC2.
They fought and squabbled for the remote, only managing to watch a couple of seconds of each programme before the channel was changed.

This is what they ended up with:
And they're off-
They're rolling about on the floor-
In, out. In, out-
And the baby was born!

Meh.

Anyway. The 'Shorts have left the Fine City of Norwich, and hopefully the county, too. I can only hope, as should all residents of the UK, that by tomorrow morning, they'll be winging their way across the Atlantic to Texas.

Godspeed, you vile polyester monstrosities!

Will tomorrow never come?

Freedom shall soon be mine!

I have managed to subdue The 'Shorts and strap them down. They're now secured and on ice awaiting transport by Royal Mail tomorrow morning. At least for the first leg of their journey, then they'll be in the hands of whichever unfortunate agency across the pond deals with toxic waste delivery.

I keep finding myself grinning and rubbing my hands together.

Ah, poor Eroswings. I hope you know what you've let yourself in for? In fact, does Texas know what unholy abomination is about to be inflicted upon it?

Hurry up tomorrow. England will soon be a green and pleasant land once more.