Party Time

This Saturday, Michael 'Fierce' Frearson is releasing his second book of poetry on Time Travel Opps. Which basically means this week is going to be a busy one. Lots of folding and sewing. Hooray for bone folders, though. I love bone folders. I love folding paper with bone folders. It's possibly the most fun you can have with a pile of paper, a flat surface and a ...well, a bone folder. Or maybe I'm lacking in imagination there. Maybe there are a hundred and one other things you could do with these three items.

The actual event and more details can be found by clicking on this here sentence. If you're around at the weekend, then it'll be a "proper good shindig" and everyone's welcome. It's free, and there will be Party Rings a-plenty. I am very much looking forward to it.

Poncho Cold

Right now, in my room, it is "poncho cold". "Poncho cold" is an utterly different kind of cold to "extra jumper" cold. "Poncho cold" smacks of the Andes, where the air is thin and clear, and the cold is a crisp thing that numbs your face and hands, but leaves your sock-encased feet alone. My feet are fine. My fingers are numb. My nose is freezing. And so I have dragged my Joan of Arc poncho out from under the desk, and I am now sitting here, warmer, happier, feeling ever-so-slightly medieval and warriorlike, and wishing I had bought that sword the other week.

Neil Sedaka

Last Saturday I came this close to buying myself a wooden sword. What stopped me was the fact that I would have had to buy two, and then I'd have had to convince someone to have a fight with me. Which would've been fun until one of us lost an eye.

Don Quixote

I hate it when the washing machine is on and I am in the shower. It takes a few minutes of screaming "I'M IN THE SHOWER!" before I realise it is not just someone running the tap downstairs for the hell of it. And then I just feel stupid.

Bill Gates

Today I put my toes under the shutter as I was closing it. I wanted to see if it would hurt. I stopped the shutter before it pressed on my toes too hard, though. I chickened out. I wondered about the strength of the shutters. I wondered if they would crush an aluminium can if it was stood underneath them. I think they would. I don't think they could crush a brick though.

The shutters are white and they have a key with a sticker on so you know which key matches which shutter. You have to hold the key and twist it, or else the shutter won't work. You can't just put the key in and leave it. You have to oversee the task at hand.

I always get the Indiana Jones theme in my head. It's a good theme song. But it sticks in my head a bit too long. Sometimes I'll pass it on to other people. It only takes a few bars. It makes me smile when I hear another person humming it. I feel like I have accomplished my mission for the day.

We can't just leave the shutters half-way, like they do in some places to HINT to people that the place is closing. It is a public safety issue. The shutters must not be touched until all members of the public have left the building. I have a daydream where I start closing them when people are still inside. In the daydream, all panic breaks loose. It is great. There's a mad scramble for the door with people belly-sliding underneath the shutters, feet-first, head-first, arms outstretched in front like Superman. And I'm just there with the key, turning it, laughing.

Polarbears And Apple Men

I have been avoiding typing things on the internet, apart from at work, where I have to type a lot of things on the internet all day long. Things like: Books On Falconry; and Where Is Balmoral; and Heller, Mandasue; and My Local Councillor; and This Postcode On yell.com; and The Meaning Of Dreams; and lots of names and surnames and titles of books and authors of books and lots of stuff that I've forgotten already.

I don't hate the internet. I think it is brilliant. I think it is the 'best thing since sliced bread'. But sometimes I just don't feel like being on it very much.

On Friday I went to see Polarbear's If I Cover My Nose You Can't See Me. He completely blew me away. He's one of the best storytellers I've ever encountered. I left quietly stunned.

Impending rain doom prevented the Norfolk boat retreat and Alan Partridge impersonations. Probably for the best. Saturday was spent instead in the windswept grounds of Rufford Abbey, touching sculptures and taking lots of photos of trees. I can't help myself if there are trees and I am 'with camera'.


a sheep on a bench


what the artist could see from that spot at the time (this appeals to my love of all things pylon)


big ole wooden dragons


a real live fly agaric

The following is my favourite quote from the internet this week so far:
"the advent of World War I reduced interest in fairies along with fly agarics."


scary


Exciting and good things have been happening on the internet. This is one such thing. You might have already read it, but if you haven't, you should do that now.

And then there is the Beat The Dust October birthday bonanza. Ten writers, one story, much amazingness.

And I think I may have found my mojo. Maybe.