Twinkle Twinkle, Little Star

Sirius

Frivolous.

However I too have noted a problem similar to this, only today my florist attempted to sell me a bunch of little cameras on stalks that he kept unconvincingly insisting were tulips. Government stooges are all around you. Beware.

Some of them hide their cameras in eggs.

fb

What?

He wrote "fb"

are you blind?

Hard of hearing.

What?

Vholt?

All together now: OMMMMMMMM

Octopus's Garden. eEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

Robin quite shortly: OOOOOOOAAAAAAArRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGEEEEEEEYYYYYAAAA

I want this CD. Can I have it? Pleeease? :D

Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOH

I closed my eyes....pulled back the curtains AAAAHHHHHHHRRRGGHH.
Yes ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, castrati and those "packing serious heat", gippids and other collapsible structures, one and all, young and old its "singalongadrunk" vol. one avaialable in all hairdressers near you SOON. Featuring: "Cap'n Rex's Old Timey Shanty", "Everybody do the Pooster" and most touching of all, the never before heard "Lynskey's coat", from Andrew Lloyd Webber's seldom-heard musical "Oh the humanity"

Ah yes, "Cap'n Rex's Old Timey Shanty" is an upbeat nautical number guaranteed to get your toes a-tapping - curiously catchy, and vaguely reminiscent of a slurred rendition of "Sloop John B" yelled tunelessly at chucking-out time on a Saturday night by a band of drunken hooligans in search of a lukewarm kebab and a good fight. Highly recommended.

I took the the nautical references in "Cap'n Rex's Old Timey Shanty" to be mere metaphors for something completely different. The words and melody invoked in me a vision of an old, deranged pervert living in a tarpaper shack on a windy coast who stands outside his "shanty" facing in the direction of the nearest school whispering "Candy! Free candy! I've got a Merry-go-round inside!" ...

No. It's a Sea Shanty. You're thinking of paedophilia. Not Sea Shanties.

If it's dark and your fingers are cold it's not always easy to tell the difference.

And they both smell of tuna fish, too. It's an easy mistake to make.

And to think...This all began with CJ falling on her ass...

Paedophilia, tuna fish, tulips, hairdressers, the whole gamut of life's experiences in one simple thread.

Fascinating.

I had written a long and eloquently bitter posting about why this wasn't even close to the whole gamut, but my connection dropped and I lost the lot.
Figures.
Eeyore was right.
No, not nearly pissed enough.

Unless of course I mean pissed in the American sense, in which case I am undoubtedly pissed enough

I would just like to add that it is two o'clock in the morning and I have just returned from a party and I am full of wine and beer and vodka and what was it oh yes brandy and I have had to type this very slowly but isn;t life great! and I will probably regret posting this tomorrow. Night all.

I vote CJ the poster of the year. With or without added ingredients. She has been a sustainer and a provider for us all... and a psychological counsellor for me. And I didn't even have to cross her palm. Hurrah for CJ: she is not like other girls. (She is far better - in case you hadn't guessed) Almost like a man. Almost like Rex, or the big L.

Twinkle, twinkle encore, petite CJ: il y des gens qui t'aiment très fort.

and how's your head this morning, young lady?

My head feels as though it has been filled with concrete, and my memories of last evening are somewhat hazy. What I remember having done is :

1. Staggered upstairs, singing happily and discordantly, being careful not to stand on the cat (who was sleeping on the landing).

2. Lurched into bathroom to perform night time ablutions, pausing only to try and work out best way of removing my jeans over my head.

3. Remembered that cat should go out at night in order to do hunting/pouncing stuff.

4. Had a fight with cat.

5. Went back downstairs (quite slowly, as they are steep stairs) to fetch Elastoplast from First Aid Kit in the kitchen to patch up wound on my hand inflicted by aforementioned cat, who won the fight.

6. Dog started whining to go out as well. Could not be arsed to find clothes to put on....luckily I have a secluded garden, so hopefully did not frighten neighbours too much

7. Repeated point number 1.

8. Collapsed into bed. Merciful unconsciousness ensued quickly.

9. Having forgotten to drink any water before passing out, I woke at 6am with a raging thirst. Stumbled downstairs (head now thumping with some kind of arrhythmic and undecipherable morse code) to get bottle of mineral water out of fridge.

10. Decided not to go back to bed, since I had managed to stand up OK and was concerned I would not manage it again, if called upon to do so a second time.

11. Drank water (and took Paracetamol)

12. Cooked scrambled eggs on toast + grilled bacon. Made large pot of coffee. This helped, although only temporarily.

13. 7:30am : Felt as though several bovver-boys in DMs were inside my brain, and kicking hell out of my eyeballs. Head felt loose and swivelly, was worried whole skull might fall off. This lasted until about 11am.

14. Took cold shower. Meant to be hot shower, but couldn't see to adjust thermostat properly due to getting Badedas in my eyes.

15. Flaked out on sofa, tried to focus on television. Dozed a bit, so TV viewing was a jumbled assortment of Jeremy Vine's Politics Show/Motorbike Grand Prix/Big Brother/Rugby 7s, though the combination seemed to work well, in a surreal sort of way.

16. Decided to be teetotal for ever.

Does new teetotal status disqualify me from posting on AAD?

p.s. mercy buckets, Pooster. I am quite undeserving of such praise, but I blush in your general direction anyway:)

Well done you, I'm very proud.

There were some good songs on this thread but from what I could hear, Jarlr'mai's rendition of "Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds" was terribly out of tune.

Dearest CJ,

I am certainly ready to take into account cultural differences that arise on either side of the pond, but I find it rather shocking that you would check my coiffeur before leaving the pub. I respect and honor the hairstyling profession for the comely things they do with one's coiffure but with the exception of my sister and an ex-bartender of mine, I am never seen in public with them, and never drink with them socially.

It has occurred to me that perhaps you checked him hockey-style for lousing up your 'do', though I always imagine you as such a radiant beauty that I have difficulty picturing how even the worst of stylists could subtract substantially from your éclat.

Coiffeur, coiffure.

It seems the vast sums of money which my parents spent on my education were entirely wasted, and I hang my head in shame.

You're quite right to point out that I wasn't down the pub with my hairdresser, although my hairdresser is very good company. She's a mad Liverpudlian with a wall-eye and unsteady hands, but I am assured that the asymmetrical tatty-headed look is quite fashionable this year so I may well consider venturing out without the usual paper bag over my head. There again, maybe not.

There's definitely no way I'd go down the pub with a hairdresser who deliberately loused up my hair, though. The chemical treatments required in the de-lousing process would almost certainly wreak havoc with my éclat, and that would never do.

Does the ususal bag look like this?

http://www.ma.psu.edu/~ma_tapps/theatre/masks/bag4.jpg

Or perhaps something more like this?

http://www.adambaumgoldgallery.com/steinberg/ManBagTH.jpg

Where does the éclat shine through?

Had you thought about an Elise rather than an a Eclat?

I have this vision of CJ in a topless (ahem) sports car, with St Etienne doing "Do You Know the Way to San Jose", or similar, in the background.

On the other hand you may not want to know about my visions.

On the other other hand, that hasn't stopped anyone else.

We're certainly well on our way to upping the lass's hubris, that's for sure.

My hubris has never been so upped. It's practically gone into orbit.

That first paper bag looks uncannily like me. Have you been lurking in my shrubbery and pointing your zoom lens at me, Michael? If I'd known you were there I'd have brought you a glass of wine and a crab sandwich.

I've always wanted a Lotus Elise, btw. One day, when I am rich and famous, I shall have one. Oh yes.

I was investigating the old water in the bucket in the shed behind your house, if you must know. I would have introduced myself but for security protocols and reasons of state. Well that and the whole whole creepy stalker/papparazzi thing. All a false alarm in the end. BTW, that water is a mere 3.5 billion years old, though the algae is considerably newer though hardly spry. Your shrubbery was less than hospitable but I can't hold that against it as we were never properly introduced either.