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Who thinks up this shit?

sleepy

Happy Menopause Awareness Month! No, really. This is exactly the kind of thing that very few of us need to be aware of, and those that do need to, are. Future generations are going to be amazed at how up in each other’s business we were.

Forget that. I have a question. I took a nap this afternoon (as I often do) and I had a series of the most amazingly vivid dreams (as I often do when I nap in the afternoon).

I deconstructed them and realized I don’t actually do things in my dreams. I try to do things, but I am thwarted. Like trying to drive someplace and getting lost, or trying to find an office in an office building and finding the elevators closed and the stairs blocked off. I was trying to play music with my father, but I couldn’t find the instruments, then I did and the strings were missing.

I can’t remember if my dreams were always like this. I think so, honestly. I’ve often thought of keeping a dream diary, but I wake up in the most vile mood. By the time I’m able to face a pencil and paper, the dreams are gone.

Are yours like this? Can you remember?

September 21, 2017 — 9:07 pm
Comments: 14

He’s nekkid!

model

I told you guys I managed to sell both pieces I put in the art show, before the doors even opened. I underpriced them, I’ve been told. As a result of which, I am now a *full member* (and I was able to pay for that frightfully self-indulgent map case and paint box).

Even better, as a direct result, I’ve been asked to join an invitation-only life drawing class. I’m having a blast.

I need this kind of eye training. Because the drawings I did in my last gig were mostly very technical, nearly everything I did was traced in some way — either the old fashioned way, or Photoshopically. Tracing is bad for fine art. Not because it’s cheating — honestly, there is no such thing in art; it ain’t football or canasta — but because it results in boring pictures.

When you draw from life, you’re forced to process what you’re looking at. You have to figure out what’s happening and then you have to figure out how to explain it to someone else. This makes for a much more persuasive and interesting picture. It’s hard as hell, though.

It also, of course, makes for more errors. There’s a classic in this drawing – his hands are way too big, especially his right hand. The human brain exaggerates anything it finds interesting but it’s a rookie mistake not to catch it and fix it. In my defense, they were all thirty minute poses today; shorter than I’m comfy with.

At least they haven’t done any 5 and 15-minutes poses yet. Brrrrr…I hate those.

September 20, 2017 — 9:33 pm
Comments: 12

Yes, that’s a Chinese diagram of a heating pump

pump

Meh. I flipped on the water heater in anticipation of a long, hot bath tonight and…the central heating pump died.

Yes, you heard that right: we don’t heat water all the time. Once every couple of days will do it. We’re reflexively cheap, the both of us.

I’m’a go sulk. And drink. But mostly sulk.

No, wait…mostly drink.

Also smell, because I need a bath.

September 19, 2017 — 9:24 pm
Comments: 12

Phew!

dead

I didn’t think I’d be with you tonight. I turned on my computer this morning and…nothing. Not even a beep.

Which implied a video card problem. When I got home this evening, I took the lid off and wiggled all the cards and. Yeah. It booted normally. But I don’t like this.

Not least because something similar happened at work last week and we ended up buying a whole ‘nother machine. Fortunately, the techie we got in was able to rescue everything off the hard drive, but it was touch and go for a while. Seems our automatic backup program hasn’t actually run itself for three years and I never checked.

Have I mentioned that I am legally listed as the Information Officer? Yeah, it’s a thing.

Anyway, I suck at backups. Must do better. Good evening!

p.s. illustration not mine. Not to be construed as a book endorsement. Found it on a Google search and liked it.

September 18, 2017 — 9:30 pm
Comments: 6

Hmmm…

bomb

That’s the remains of the bomb that went off in the tube station this morning. It was a dud, though a number of people were superficially hurt. It could have been lethal.

There’s something very effing weird about this one. Initially, they didn’t raise the terror threat level at all. Then suddenly May comes out and cranks it up to the highest. I heard she sounded shook up. Who knows? We’re safe as anywhere, down here in our rural corner of Old Blighty. Nobody bombs sheep.

By the way, that’s a bucket in a ‘forever bag’. Do you have these things? Supermarkets are forbidden to give us free bags now; they’re required to charge 5p (which they pass on to charity, I think). Or, for 10p, most sell a much sturdier ‘forever bag’ that they will replace when it wears out.

This boneheaded move put at least one bag manufacturer out of business, adds a definite level of pain-in-the-assery to our weekly shop as we are forever collecting bags and moving them around, and means we have to buy bags for our small kitchen rubbish bin instead of re-using shopping bags. It’s just so emblematic of what’s wrong with our nannying classes.

A bomb on the tube in a forever bag. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Britain 2017.

Have a good weekend!

September 15, 2017 — 9:01 pm
Comments: 22

Boo!

weirdlondon

Here’s a bit o’ fun that came across my FB today: an interactive map of spooky London stuff. Hauntings, disasters, unsolved murders. It’s worth clicking around – some of the short items have links to longer articles. Very interesting, if you like that sort of thing.

Where we used to live, near Crystal Palace, is off the map. That is, the map isn’t there, but there are still markers in the general area. Looks like we’re all clear. Nobody’s dug up the bodies in the back garden yet.

They’ve gotten the data from a variety of sources, many of them worth checking in their own right. Like the Paranormal Database and Mysterious Britain (which appears to be down for maintenance at the moment).

I love a good ghost story. Not sure why; I’m not a believer. I’m as psychic as a potato. I guess maybe in the back of my mind, if one inexplicable thing is possible, they all are.

September 14, 2017 — 9:00 pm
Comments: 9

What’s this? What’s this?

tools

One of the particular pleasures of this show (the one we went to over the weekend) are the old tools. Several long rows of vendors selling old carpentry tools, car parts, gas cans, garden seats. Bunch of rusty junk, but often cheap and lots of fun.

The farm tools, like the ones above, are particularly interesting. They tend to be regional, locally manufactured (perhaps even by a village blacksmith) and intended for a very particular job. Like…I dunno…prying ant nests out of fields whole (that is a real tool I saw once, though I don’t see an example there).

Problem is, with many of these tools, nobody has the slightest idea what they were intended to do. The old boys have died out. We often ask, we sometimes get an answer, but more often not.

See if you can figure any of these out. Don’t try it from the little version: here’s a color pic (about a meg). The handles often provide the best clue.

There won’t be a quiz later, though. Just to break the suspense, I only know what a couple of these things were for.

September 13, 2017 — 9:24 pm
Comments: 21

I’m a steamroller, baby

steamroller

Not just one steamroller. I bet there were ten, at least. Great big things.

We stood and watched them pass and the earth — I swear — dipped under a couple of them, like a fat man moved across a wood floor. This is solid ground that has been passed over by these things dozens of times, and they still left tracks.

This was the last country show of our season. Weather was predicted to be rainy, so some of the exhibitors ducked out at the last minute. That’s kind of worrying, to be honest. When these events decline, even for perfectly explicable reasons, sometimes it causes a chain reaction of decline. Several of our favorite events have vanished in the last few years, and several more have shrunk.

Expecting a big blow tonight. Not Irma-sized, obviously, but chilly and miserable. We’ve had fires at night for a week. September, huh! Glad everyone from Florida is still with us…!

September 12, 2017 — 8:38 pm
Comments: 12

This again.

Ugh. September 11 falls on a weekday again this year. I don’t usually post on the anniversary — I’ve already said everything I wanted to say about it. On the other hand, it feels wrong to post about silly things on this day, so I just give it a miss.

Don’t mean to be a drama queen, though. Feel free to talk about Irma or your weekend or whatever in the comments.

September 11, 2017 — 8:50 pm
Comments: 22

Dead Pool Round 101: I think. It goes so quickly these days.

Carl takes dick again, this time with Cardinal Cormac Murphy-O’Connor, once head of the Roman Catholic Church in Britain. I think I speak for us all when I say we welcome Carl in our midst and aren’t the least put off by his spooky-ass lifetime streak of dick-winning.

Queue up! Queue up and pick your favorite! And could somebody please explain why that’s not pronounced “kyoowee-yoowee” or “kayway” or “kweeyoo” or something?

0. Rule Zero (AKA Steve’s Rule): your pick has to be living when picked. Also, nobody whose execution date is circled on the calendar. Also, please don’t kill anybody. Plus (Pupster’s Rule) no picking someone who’s only famous for being the oldest person alive.

1. Pick a celebrity. Any celebrity — though I reserve the right to nix picks I never heard of (I don’t generally follow the Dead Pool threads carefully, so if you’re unsure of your pick, call it to my attention).

2. We start from scratch every time. No matter who you had last time, or who you may have called between rounds, you have to turn up on this very thread and stake your claim.

3. Poaching and other dirty tricks positively encouraged.

4. Your first choice sticks. Don’t just blurt something out, m’kay? Also, make sure you have a correct spelling of your choice somewhere in your comment. These threads get longish and I use search to figure out if we have a winner.

5. It’s up to you to search the thread and make sure your choice is unique. I’m waayyyy too lazy to catch the dupes. Popular picks go fast.

6. The pool stays open until somebody on the list dies. Feel free to jump in any time. Noobs, strangers, drive-bys and one-comment-wonders — all are welcome.

7. If you want your fabulous prize, you have to entrust me with a mailing address. If you’ve won before, send me your address again. I don’t keep good records.

8. The new DeadPool will begin 6pm WBT (Weasel’s Blog Time) the Friday after the last round is concluded.

The winner, if the winner chooses to entrust me with a mailing address, will receive an Official Certificate of Dick Winning and a small original drawing on paper suffused with elephant shit particles. Because I’m fresh out of fairy shit particles.

September 8, 2017 — 6:00 pm
Comments: 84