Wednesday, 26 October 2011


Curdle is distinctly unimpressed at being used as a card stand. Curdle does not give a rats ass if Boy's mum has a happy birthday or not, she just wants to nap undisturbed.
Curdle is a selfish madam. Boy's mum constantly bestows cat treats upon her, the least she could do is put a paw print signature on a greetings card. But nnnnnnno, Curdle is to tired after her busy day's repose and so must not be disturbed.
They say that pets take after their owners, and, well....

N = N* fp ne fl fi fc fL

Do I believe in Aliens?
I know my answer should be that there's not enough evidence to make any kind of informed answer.

But fuck that.
Yes, yes I do. I believe that there is life somewhere else out there - given the number of planets around the number of stars in all the galaxies of our universe (I won't start thinking about other universes just yet. I need a good supply of Hobnobs (Milk Chocolate) to hand when I think multi-universal, and the shop is closed), odds are on that we are not alone. I even reckon some of that life is intelligent - given what an evolutionary advantage intelligence is, it's likely to have cropped up elsewhere.

What I don't believe is that the aliens look like the ones in X-Files. Or that they enjoy broadening the sexual horizons of red-necks. Or that they are/have been broadcasting on the tiny handful of wavelengths we've been watching for the fraction of a second (relatively - in terms of age of universe) we have been listening.

So... contribute to Seti@home - just a couple of hours a week while you're not using your computer. If we find the aliens, maybe we can help this little one get home. Her (Her? Dunno, just a vibe I got) ship crash landed in a tree. I couldn't work out how to communicate...  English failed me - even when I spoke really loudly and slowly with big gestures (shock!!). I could hear Rammstein coming from the tape deck in the ship, but my German is negligible at best - she didn't respond to 'sprechen sie Englisch?' or 'ziehe meine kanone!*'. So I'm kinda stuck. But she looks lost, and I'm sure she'd love it if we could tune into her local radio station for her...
Go on, you know you want to find the ETs just as much as I do, so join in looking for them, 'cause, dude, how awesome would it be to hear the music they make in MuArae?

* 50% of my knowledge of the German language is lines from WarGoose... this did not go down well when I was in Berlin.

Wednesday, 12 October 2011

Lions and Tigers and Vampire-Wolves, Oh My!

I'm a good skeptic, and am highly suspicious about claims of cryptozoology (Nessie, Bigfoot and the like.) Believers - I'm not saying your wrong, but I am saying that photo of blurry splodges is unlikely to be a cold-blooded dinosaur living in a Scottish pond. And that other photo is a dog with mange, not Chupacabra. Stop being so stupid.
All that being said, as of today, I believe in unicorns. Why? Well, because I saw one. A baby one (you can tell because it still has it's black markings, which (as everyone knows) fade to silvery white when maturity is reached).
There was, unfortunately, no evidence of an ability to fart rainbows.
Noods x

Saturday, 8 October 2011

a lot o' duffers...

Every Pottermanic knows what Hogwarts House they would be in. I'm a Ravenclaw girl myself - with hints of Slytherin. I never understood the popularity of Gryffindor.... 'Loyalty and bravery'; ie idiots, jocks and members of the BNP. No thanks. As for Hufflepuff - well, I suspect I wouldn't fit in very well there - they are all too nice. Surrounded by all that squishy lovely-ness, I'd constantly feel guilty about my mile-wide bitchy streak.

I reckon it'd be hard to be a Hufflepuff in a world were even Hagrid thinks you're a bit shit.. they are terminally undervalued. So this funky grown-up take on the House Scarf (knitted from black ribbon yarn) trend included a little badgers paw to remind the 'puff wearer that she can have claws too when needs be ;)

Whatever your house, remember - Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus...

Friday, 7 October 2011

Segregtion of the Gingers

Every girl thinks that their Daddy is the best daddy in the world. The difference between me and them is I'm right. 
The only mistake my daddy has ever made (admittedly it is a grave mistake indeed) is putting ginger nuts with the other biscuits in the biscuit jar. Now, I have nothing against Ginger nuts in their place - they are particularly good for eating whilst thinking about hard maths problems (something about the extreme crunchiness), but they make all other biscuits they come into contact with taste of ginger. I like ginger nuts, but I also like arrowroot and cow biscuits* and all sorts of things and so I do not want them contaminated. 
So, a few years ago I implemented a 2 biscuit tin system - one ginger, one not. Unfortunately the rules for this were not properly followed, so I had to move out of home and get a biscuit tin of my own that I can maintain full control over.
The advantage of this is that I can now bake ginger and white chocolate cookies for my Daddy and not have to worry about improper storage. So, Happy Birthday Daddy, you can put your biscuits any where you want :)

*I first put Hobnobs, but thinking about it a gingery hob-nob would work quite well. Mr McVitie, I happily forfeit all copyright to this idea if you promise to make some. And bring back the chocolate-orange hobnob while you're at it.

Letter To A Flemish Nation

Dear Belgium,
I love you. I take back all the mocking, all the jibes and all the laughing at your Eurovision entries.
I love you for inventing spreadable biscuits.
I love you Belgium, and I love biscuit on toast.

Thank you is an insignificant word, but it is all I have
Dank u wel

PS. (also recommended are biscuit sandwiches (as good as sandwich biscuits, and you can claim them as a main course then have non-spreadable biscuits for pudding) and using biscuit in the place of jam in a Vicky Sponge)