Monday, July 20, 2009

Self help makes you feel worse


http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/health/8132857.stm

Friday, July 10, 2009

Possibly my favorite dance sequence ever





Cab Calloway can dance



and so can walrus ghosts apparently

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

This is what kids should be making in school







I love Automatones







This is what it takes to make a caged bird sing







I thought mine was the only one in the world



Guess not



Three mini beauties







Someone gave this piano some booze


Monday, July 6, 2009

Who ordered this weather

The London Paper

Free for a reason




Americans in London

Larger than in America




Ben talks in his sleep

Chill duck. Relax. I'll buy you a tie.




Soulmates

Four eyes, slim profess M, 43,
seeks fit solvent F with desic-
cated humour for hiking,biking
& crossword thrills. Must own
boots, binoculars & biro. Bristol

Profess M,55,boring to look
at interesting to talk to,courte-
ous,with GSOH,looking for
slimmish F, 40-55 N/NW

University teacher/writer
seeks hopeless case (confident,
intellig,curvaceous,irrestible
& adorable F),40-55 for LTR.

Shadow dancer seeks partner
to dance into the light with. SW

Sir Lancelot seeks Guinevere
Tall,fully charged crusading
knight,46,prone to spontane-
ous gestures, enjoys cooking,
films & good conversation,
WLTM bright,winsome lady,


Northern Irish M,52,6'2
Unemployed,sincere,open

Longleat lion,early 70s,nice
mane,good subsidaries,no
growl,WLTM gentle consort
for grooming &TLC under the
baobab tree. Conversation,wine
& music with the zebra. Bath.

Honest Tony Blair look-alike,

Wow your friends.Get your
mum off your back once and for
all. Even impress you kids(if
applicable). This unique,highly
decorative,48 yo M could be
yours to keep. F,32-43,beauty-
&-brains,EU rating. LDN

Body of a God,shame its Bud-
dha! M seeks F for bad dancing,
wine, travel & poss r/ship. LDN

Funky granddad tries again.




Short story number One

Aunt Grey lifts her tea once again to her chin and I ponder the cleanliness of her silk blouse. She's talking about something again. The topics are items I never feel I can talk about freely. She shows me a picture of Micheal Jacksons children one of which has dyed their hair white and she's disgusted beyond her manners and I feel she wants to curse but doesn't. "How could a parent do that to a child?!" and I'm replying to her rhetorical question in my head with why would anyone allow for their child to die their hair a color of the children of the corn? Pink or orange would have suited him better.
I watch the droplets of her tea conjoin once again on the very edge of her china in one large beige threat to her blouse and once again it is just a tease.
My eyes glaze out to the garden as she starts on about Micheal's brain being put in a freezer. I imagine my body still on the grass under the quaint queen like wave of the sprinkler. I giggle at the thought of aunt Grey catching me doing this. My timing is impeccable for she's just made a joke about Micheal's brain being put into an ape.
I understand suddenly why Peter Pan was written here and why comedians are so bonkers and brilliant, why punk rock was invented here it can be oppressive, this quaintness and I've got to use it to my advantage.