sweasel.com

Poor weasel!

Just wanted to pop in and tell you that I saw a mink investigating the parking lot outside my store the other day (this buidling is actually kind of a covered bridge, there’s a little stream that runs underneath it).

Cute little thing. When he ran, his butt was bopping along on a different track than his front legs.

Looked a lot like you but his fur is browny-black.

A mink! You should’ve beaned it with a rock; you could’ve made a lovely if very tiny coat.

We have a flat a mile from the new house (which is how we knew this is where we wanted to live); we’ve popped up for a shower and an email check. Nothing very exciting. Rough day yesterday (duh), but everything went reasonably well.

The house is gobsmacking. I love it. First I’d seen it. But we’re about to run out of oil and we can’t light the fire until after the sweep comes Monday, so we might be very cold mustelids this evening (or next).

We’ll have to keep warming by consuming the Museum of Booze we moved down from London.

Stoaty is already talking like a proper Brit popping up for showers and such.

Your house sounds delicious. Can we see it?

D’you know, I haven’t taken any pictures yet? We’ve been running around like mad persons. It’s sat empty for a long time, so the outside looks very overgrown and neglected, but I’ll take some pictures inside when I get a chance.

The main part of the house is very, very old. We’re not sure exactly how old, but we think the first Elizabeth was on the throne when it was built. The earliest confirmed date is a little later — our lawyer found a £4 tax bill from 1610 (which, with interest and penalties, could’ve been a real fothermucker… but happily it doesn’t work that way in the UK).

There are four doorways and three beams I have to duck to get under and another couple of beams I can only walk under with my shoes off. I’ve conked my noggin three times so far and I’ve just spent one night in it. People are going to think Uncle B beats me.

So…you’re saying he doesn’t?
No running water eh? How rustic.
Not sure how it was down south today, but up here round York way, it was sunshine, blue skies and a faint autumn chill; delightful. You’d better get that chimney swept or all the booze in the world isn’t going to stop you freezing your fur off come winter.
Your new 400-year-old place sounds nice though. I wish you both the best of luck and all the hapiness in the world. Also, I hope you aren’t to far away from the local BT exchange, or you’re doomed to have shitty, slow internet, and that would suck major donkey cock, I’m sure you’ll agree. Not that I’ve particularly got anything about donkey’s dongs, you undertand.

about=against…

Stoaty, your house sounds awesome. Of course, I bet there are lots of inconveniences, but old houses that stick around for so long always amaze me. I live hard by* a big city in Texas, and everything around here is brand spanking new. Even New York and Boston, with their buildings that date back two whole centuries!!!, seem ancient and different to me. I can’t imagine a house that’s over 400 years old.

Anyway, I’m excited for you and also totally jealous. The boy and I are vaguely discussing houses, but we won’t live together until we’re married, and we’re not even engaged yet, so…But we will have fun picking out a house and molding it to our desires.

*hansel and gretel begins with the phrase “hard by a great forest.”

So what are you going to call it, Weas? Badg’ End?

Stately Stoat Manor?

Weas acres?

Ah! Yes!

Weez Acres

-with apologies to almost everyone except that noisy fuck over in the corner- -and including Vic Mizzy-

Weez Acres is across the sea!
Brit livin’? Pray no meds she’ll need!
Badg’ snagged hisself one yankee snack
treat ‘er with gloves – or buddy, you watch yer back!

Rhode Island can wank its wink.
Leftland livin’ certainly can stink.
DullGrey Corp can bite its scrotal sack!
Cram all your cubicles – She ain’t a-comin’ back!

Best wishes, Lady!

Badgerhurst.

Weasel attack — http://pupster.wordpress.com/2007/10/16/funny-commercial/

Rare documentary footage of Schrodinger’s Ferret and they waste it on a commercial.

Stoatyshire

Mustelid Manor

Lowbeamburg

Good luck old bean. Mind ‘yer ‘ed.

There was another house we nearly bought we were going to call Stoat House, but this one already has a very old name.

Thanks for the good wishes. I have today beaned myself twice; first time I went right down on the spot like a big ol’ sack of weasel. Not unconscious, just shocked. It’s the main housebeam keeps getting me. It’s only the livingroom/diningroom part of the house that’s got the low bits. Beautiful rooms, but built for hobbits.

Uncle B and I are the exact same height. He’s walking around with his knees flexed like Groucho and me I’m just smacking into shit.

The irony is, the lowest doorway in the place is brand new. The previous owner did a lot of work on the house (which we think was nigh unto falling down before they got it). They divided a room upstairs into two little ones and the historical people made them put in a doorway that comes up to my collarbone. God help me, I think I’m going to pick that one for my work room, if I can take that much brain damage.

Beautiful rooms, but built for hobbits.

So, you’ve planned well for your retirement. By the time you are celebrating your 30th anniversary, you would have shrunk to fit.