Sunday, October 09, 2005
I'd really like to write, but I'm pooped. There's all sorts of vague strings in my head that want out, (is it the same for you, they don't really crysatlise until you begin to write?) but I'm afraid that if I start then I'll just make a mess, or even fall asleep half way through.
It's not a bad kind of tired, more a warm, fuzzy, cream crackerdy, doziness. I've all sorts of lovely things to think about at the moment.
So I'm going to be lazy and offer a few random pics of the weekend, and two 'ickle observations.
Stop it, the world does not need a razor with 5 blades. It's getting silly chaps.
My farts (yes I do occasionally) firghten Charle. He was dozing on the sofa next to me and I'm sorry to say that I parped. He jumped up like he'd been shot, yelped, leapt off the and ran out of the room. He's under the bed at the moment, hiding, just in case I assualt him with another bottom burp. (I'm going to eat a lot of brocolli and pickled egss to see if I can really scare him one evening).
charlie took this
"what shall we do charlie", "wee on it Toff, wee on it"
jolly hockey sticks (we lost 7-3!!)