February 22, 2013

Acclimatisation and realignment!

"Soon, there will be nothing left of the Little Mouse."

I crush thee with my stickytape for returning to my lair! ...Wait, what? You're a registered visitor? Fine, OK, I'll use the hole punch instead. But I'm not using the staple-gun or the glue-gun. They're for certified VIPs only. You'll just have to jump into the 50,000-strong waiting list for that. It's a little bit exclusive.

DEAD FLYING EAGLE. Oh wait, my apologies, it's an aeroplane instead. My bad. But still, it brings the amount of aeroplanes featured in this blog (hidden or not) to 44,285,342. Another 72,443 and we'll have total anarchy! Yay! Let's have some more fun. And waffles.

Have some non-random words which may or may not have significance:
Arnold. Tongue tied. Dynamite. Raise the roof. Pharaohs. Skirts. Metropolis. Reunion. Baguette. Fuck with you. I love it. Blockhead. Alice. Move your body. Pull up wheel up. Miami to Ibiza. Deladeu 2. Ohrwurm. Chaos theory. Never acid again. Tarantula. Feel the love. Sweet nothing. Ghosts. Oxygen. Water bombs. Chimes. All about you. Leave me amor. Garden. Running. HyperParadise. Fineshrine. Out on the town. Nights like this. Gonna make it. Cast away. Young blood.

Me be cray-cray. Does that mean I'm a double crayfish? Because I don't like fish. I got cured of fish when I was 11. Which means I am also not susceptible to shark. Which is good, because shark spreads like a motherbitch, especially among twentysomethings who love people too much. COME AT ME, SHARKY-BRO.

It has occurred to me that there is a large pile of owls to my right-hand side. None of them have names. Please help me name them. I will thank you. Because it is very hard to come up with 53 (give or take) names, and I am not naming them Owl #1, #2, #3, et cetera ad nauseum. Only serious and non-serious names will be considered. If you can't provide either of those, I'm sorry, but I just will not accept that.

(this episode of the CJ Curry Experience has been sponsored by coffee)

incoming is my fifth o week. in other words, best. party. ever.

...On a sadder note, I was originally going to write "long live my cricket bat" in every blog post for the season. Alas, Old Faithful is inching closer to retirement. She's beginning to show some quite nasty cracks up where the blade meets the handle. For now, long live my cricket bat, and hopefully she lasts until June. And I shall write a tribute to her once she does retire... or pass away. Arrangements are being made for both her retirement and her funeral, should the worst happen. During this sad time, I am counting on donations from volunteers to help cover the costs and hopefully give her a decent send-off (either way), so please send donations to me at the usual address, which has of course been sent telepathically to the 55,947,613,775 email addresses on my snail-mail list. Beginning now.

poor old faithful. eight years of service shall not be forgotten.

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