Falafel in the bathroom

Climbing radiators is a strangely pointless activity, but one which has brought pleasure to at least one small fluffy critter.  This is how it goes:

1)  Find a radiator.  Preferably a REALLY COOL one, or you burn your paws.



2)  Climb up the back of it, bracing yourself between the rad and the wall:



3)  Emerge



4)  Maybe one day I'll find a way out of this dratted bathroom, even if the climbing doesn't work:

Mervyn's taken up Ceroc!

Mervyn has graduated from Morris Dancing, where, to be honest, his inebriation did not cause him to stand out from the other practitioners.

He now appears at Ceroc classes.  'Hello', he will say to any lady newts who have not passed out through the alcohol fumes. 'Is thish yor firsht time here?' 'No!' the lady newt will reply. 'I've been here every day for the last six months, and danced with you long enough to have my nail varnish removed by the alcoholic fumes of your breath!'  'Oh good', he will respond.'Sshfootworkssh really tricky with thissssh one isshent it'.

Those of you familiar with Ceroc as a dance form may misinterpret his pose as a 'signal'.  It isn't. He's just trying to locate a wall against which he can lean, in order to look cool.  At least cooler than he would flat out on the floor.

Propaganda Machine

Falafel is a master of spin, and here's a picture of his propanda machine.  I thought you might be interested to see how his merry-go-round of a life actually functions.   Actually, he's in the bath at the moment.  
When I say this, I hasten to add that the bath hasn't actually got any water 
in it right now, but it does have his toys and things to play with while his storage crate is being cleaned out.  When I say storage crate, this is because he lives in a customised one rather than a cage.  He doesn't really do cages. Not the way they're meant to be done;  he would cheerfully spend all night gnawing on the bars given half a chance.

I don't use sawdust in his crate because it gets stuck in his long plumes;  shredded paper is much better, and this is a very good way to use sensitive information which might be useful to people who want to steal my identity.  If they really want to go through my bins and then stick together bits of paper generously laced with hamster wee ... well they're nearly as mad as I am, and are probably entitled to my identity.  I also found it was a strangely symbolic use of old tax returns.

I've done a website!

Yes!  I now have my very own website, with pictures and a history of me on and everything! Interested parties - who haven't already been pressured into 
checking it for bugs and fleas - can take a look here.

It was great fun and games building it, not least because I was obliged to do it all through Internet Explorer.  On my computer IE likes to shut down to have a cup of tea and a nap at regular intervals - usually when I'm in the middle of doing something which needs a lot of concentration.

I thought I might go out to play last weekend but then realised that if I did, I would go around obsessing about the ****** thing, so I might as well get on and finish it.  I find that I can get as hooked on things like this as lovesick people do on the object of their passions!

The Nursery Rhymes are finished, Keith Donnelly is off making the music to go with it, I'll have to write a covering letter with proper worms in, and then it's off!!!

Right, I'd better get on with clearing up the chaos I call a studio ...

Oooer ... I've been tagged ... twice ...!

Firstly, by Penny from Natural Attrill, and, secondly, by Chris from Raven Madness.  Links for both of these appear to the right.

I have to tag 8 other people. This is not compulsory, and if I have chosen you, and you don't fancy joining in, that is fine. Here are the rules:

1. Let others know who tagged you.

2. Players start with 8 random facts about themselves.

3. Those who are tagged should post these rules and their 8 random facts.

4. Players should tag 8 other people and notify them they have been tagged.


Anyway, my random facts are as follows:

1.  I used to do a lot of dancing and am still flexible enough to bite my own toenails.

2.  I am a stationery fetishist - I particularly like stripy paperclips.

3.  I HATE custard.

4.  I feel very uncomfortable when handling aluminium foil.  It makes my teeth jump.

5.  In shops at Christmas time, you get stands with lengths of tinsel in different colours draped over them.  I like to stroke these, surreptitiously.

6.  I am a size 10 gym-bunnie.

7.  My hamster has chewed a hole in his expensive, posh water bottle and I can't replace it.

8.  There is honey fungus in my garden.

Right ... off to pick my victims ...

Illustration Friday - Captain

The captain, or head honcho, of this army is none other than the Grand Old Duke (or god for short) of York.  His physique suggests that he feeds on a diet of soldiers rather than merely leading them.

Anyway, he's a very good argument in favour of socialism.

Wow! Doesn't time fly ...

And not just time, but here's a picture of some blackbirds flying:

 
This is also the chief explanation as to why it's been so quiet on here recently.  All my energies have been taken up with controlling characters like this:


Which at times has felt a bit like this:



And has been ...



... uphill all the way, and it's all the fault of:



But very soon, a dummy version of:



will be on its way to someone who will send it to someone else who might want to publish it.  

But I've got a couple more spreads to do first.

All good clean fun, but so consuming of time and little paint brushes.  And thanks to everyone who's been on here in the last month or so ... please don't go away!