Cats can be geeks too

These are the voyages of the starship Enterprise....

Tell him he is a good cat. A pretty cat.

Back stab him! Back stab him!!

Going Away

... Morning ...

So, today I watched my breakfast as it heated up and cooked in the toaster.
Bread going from soft and pale to a crispy golden brown crunchiness.

I watched as the heat from the elements caused the paleness to turn first golden and then brown.
I watched as the heat wafted upwards and warmed my face.
My eyes watered as the heat reddened my cheeks.

Cats wind their way around my legs, demanding attention.
I try to ignore their pleas. It is futile.
They look innocently expectant as I turn.
Their quiet stillness is suddenly gone as I open the fridge. It is all loud demands and expectations.

I give them their food and return the can to the fridge.
The kitchen is silent now and, as I turn back to the toaster, there is a pop and the toast rises.

What was once bread is now brown and crispy toast ready for butter and jam.

The Saga of Martin the Ladybug

The -kind of- beginning

Martin was a ladybug. And he thought himself a very handsome and lucky ladybug indeed.

Just the previous day he had found a rosebush so full of yummy aphids that he just couldn’t eat them all. He had spent so much time stuffing himself silly and there were still so many of them!

When he fell asleep that night, he dreamed of his next aphid feast. Oh what a lovely day it would be.

The sun was just rising above the horizon when an excited Martin woke from his dreams.

“Hello Martin.” The Sun’s deep voice was carried in on the breeze. “How are you today?”

“Oh, hello there, Mr Sun. I am wonderful today! I found a rosebush so full of aphids that I am going back today to eat some more!”

“Be careful you don’t eat too much. You’ll get a tummy ache.”

“Oh no, I could eat aphids all day. And the next day too!” Martin enthused.

The sun smiled down at the little ladybug as he set off on his trek to the rosebush.

Martin had been munching and scarfing and eating the aphids for what seemed like forever when he noticed that the shadows were getting darker.

He looked around, and sure enough, the shadows were getting longer and longer.

Poor Martin was confused. It wasn’t night time yet, why was it so dark?

He looked up. And what he saw made him gasp in horror.

Mr Sun! He was disappearing!

“Mr Sun!” cried Martin. “What’s happening?”

“Martin, it’s a-” The sun’s words were muffled by whatever it was that was making him disappear. Something had eaten Mr Sun! The horror!

“Oh no! Poor Mr Sun.” Martin fretted, pacing back and forth on the rose leaf, his half eaten aphid forgotten in his hand.

“What am I going to do? Where did he go?” Martin dropped the remains of the aphid to the ground, his hunger gone.

“Why don’t you and look for him?” A small squeaky voice piped up. A small, green head peeked out from behind the leaves. “He might need your help.” The tiny aphid said.

Martin’s disbelief and surprise faded and he smiled.

“Why, thank you little aphid, that is a fantastic idea!”

Martin was so happy that, even though it was quite dark, he raised his shell and fluttered his wings, setting off in the direction he thought the sun had disappeared.

The terrified aphids crept out from their hiding places.

“Phew! I thought he was going to eat all of us.” one squeaked, wiping its brow in relief.

“Nooooooooooo! Steven, he killed you!” Steven’s horrified mate wept in anguish at his dreadful fate.

Martin gave no thought to the aphids as he sped through the trees. Mr Sun needed him and Martin was the only one who could help.

He flew towards an outcropping of trees and in those trees he saw something move.

It could be a helpful bug, thought Martin.

He landed close to the movement and saw it was antenna. And attached to the antennae was an ant.

“Hello there, Mr Ant. I was hoping you could help me.”

“There is always time to help a delicious morsel such as yourself.” Mr Ant smiled slowly.

“Oh good, I am looking for Mr Sun. You see, he’s disappeared. Something bad must have happened!”

“Oh, don’t you fret little bug. Come with me and we’ll see what we can do.”  The ant put an arm around Martin’s shoulders and began to lead him into the bushes.

It was dark in the bushes. Even darker than it was when he was not in the bushes. Martin felt the first stirrings of unease as the ant lead him through the maze of branches and leaves.

“Where are we going?”

“Don’t you worry your head about it. I’m taking you to people who can help.” The ant’s low tone did nothing to reassure Martin.

“It’s okay, I think I’ll find the sun on my own.” Martin tried to get the ant’s vice-like grip to loosen.

“No, no. you come along with me little lady and we’ll sort you right out.” The ant began to pull a protesting Martin along. It wasn’t long till Martin saw their destination. It was a huge ant’s nest. It was covered in the colony of his so called helper. Martin knew the ant wasn’t going to help him; he was going to have him eaten!

“No! I don’t want to be dinner!” He struggled futilely. “I won’t feed all of you! There’s not enough of me to go around! Let me go!”

“Stop struggling, you little fiend!” The ant felt his grip loosening and fought to regain his hold. He heard a noise and turned. What he saw then made him forget about thesucculent ladybug all together.  The giant, scaly form of a lizard had come down upon the colony and was eating as many of the ants as he could fit into his mouth!

The ant dropped Martin in his panic and rushed over to help his stricken brethren. Martin lay still as the lizard chewed and chomped his way through the ants. And he watched as his captor was swept up in the frenzy and bitten clean in two. In the panic Martin managed to slip away, unheeded by both the ants and the ferocious lizard.

“Well, he certainly got his comeuppance. Nasty, unhelpful ant.” and with that Martin fluttered his wings and continued on his way.

The beginnings of a cowboy story...

He is silent as he looks down the hill at the small, ramshackle town in the distance. He is loathe to enter any town as it may lead to his capture and imprisonment, perhaps, even his death, but he is running out of food and he hasn't seen any source of water in days. Supplies are getting low.
He sighs. He will have to risk it. His horse needs a rest and he needs to regroup and try to figure out how he was going to survive the next few days.
With another sigh he nudges his horse's flanks and they slowly set off into the dust covered town of Margret's Fall.

The two men watch as the lone rider approaches the town.
"See? I told you he would need to get supplies here. This is the only town within a hundred miles. My family has no overt ties to the land and people here. He thinks he’s safe.” His horse restlessly shifts as his rider tenses with anger. “I’ll avenge my sister’s honour. He’ll pay for the trouble he has caused my family.”
The older of the men looks on passively as his younger companion grimaces. The lone rider was going to be strung up as soon as he set foot in town.  Without a by-your-leave he was going to be dancing on air just so this young pup could go home to daddy and get a pat on the head.
He shook his head as they set off towards the small dust cloud of the rider who had wronged such a powerful family.

Banana Man

Tally Hall's Banana Man. A wonderfully bizzare song filled with wonder, magic and bananas.

What has been seen...

Cannot be unseen!

The Royal One And The Adventure Of Linen

He has a pretty crown,
it only adds to his regal bearing.

In my household Sebastian is the one true king. He rules with a firm and clawed paw. He has gentleness which lulls his subjects and they suspect nothing. Suspect nothing of his evil plans. 

He has evil plans involving everything that concern his domain.

He likes to sleep on anything resembling clothes, towels or even pillows. 

He stares at any and all that encroach upon his domain be they human mouse or bird.

His favourite pastime, however, is when it is bed-making time.

Stripping the bed is an easy task and is accomplished when he is distracted with his other subjects or even sleeping on other things.

When one of his subjects is trying to re-sheet the bed is when the shenanigans begin.

The fitted sheet goes on and then the king deigns to move among his subjects so they can see him in all his regal sassiness.

He resists all attempts to move his frame from the bed, even attacking those with the audacity to come close. Those that tried have ended up being swiped at or even scratched by the royal claw.

When his royal personage finally acquiesces to the indignity of having a sheet  placed on the bed right underneath him the task may continue. 

Then, when the top sheet is added, he further complicates things by being a sheet lump and once again attacking any and all who try to move him.

It is a painful and arduous task, but eventually his great regality allows this 

lowly subject to tuck in the edges.

But not before he has attacked and shredded all who try to continue making the bed's hand. And looked mischievous from under his sheet fort at his lucky subject. 

The regal one emerges from his fort.
He then supervises the placement of the doona.
The doona is found to be impertinent and also in need of reminding of who is really in charge of the household.

POUNCE!!

PUMMEL!!!

OPPRESS!!  

The bed is finally beaten into submission and is then found to be comfortable on the royal kitty and is then slept and snuggled upon with great abandon. And all is right with the world once more.

Tiny Bites of Chocolate Sugar Dough

I made cupcakes.
They were tiny and chocolate.

And then they were eaten.

Dagnabbit!!

You know, you'd think I'd learn.
Ha!!
Yeah, right!

I stop taking my medication and BAM!! withdrawals.
Woo!
Paranoia!
Manic episodes!
Mild obsessions with minutia!
Insomnia!
Hey, look! A Kitty!!

Social avoidance!
Outside is bad!!
Baaaaaad!

One of the last times i stopped taking my medication for more than a few days I shaved my head!!
Bald!!

You could count the scars on my head!

1...2...3...47...9...5...

I probably should go to sleep...

I've got me a bouncy feeling

It is a heart warming tale of an egg and his happy , bouncing feeling and his quest to share it with the world.

FOAMY DOOOOM!!!

A video filled with wonder and joy and happiness and no moose.

It's a hard knock life

Men sure do have it tough when it comes to life.

Everything starts off all hunky dory, peaches and cream and all that nonsense. Childhood is simple and then you grow up to be a man.
It is when you become men that life becomes interesting.


To be a real man you must be strong and physical. Do well at sports.

Join the army. Fight yellow reds. And any other colour of the rainbow.

Beware of Sex Perversion, though. It might very well ruin your life. 

Remember that EVERYTHING is dangerous. And all animals will want to attack you and kill you. Perhaps to eat you. Or the women with you, who will need saving from almost certain doom, as they scream in revealing outfits.

These sharks are no match for my pistol skills!

Strength will help you to face these dangers with style and aplomb.

If uncertain, your mother will be able to help you find a plomb. 

* * * * *

Women are very beautiful creatures. But, as beautiful as these creatures are, they are also extremely dangerous. Never go to the darkest reaches of the jungle and expect a warm welcome. Unless your preferred welcome is an orgy of death. 

Sexed to Death!!

Or perhaps a form of cannibalism after the obligatory sexual relations with many nubile young natives.

Om Nom Nom Nom

Even on holiday, you are not safe! Women will wear revealing clothing to distract you and take you prisoner! Guard your manly virtue!!

If there are slaves, they will ALWAYS revolt and take you hostage. And once again your manly virtue is in danger of ravishment!

* * * * *

Nazis are EVERYWHERE and must be defeated at all costs. Women are in constant peril and thus men must be extra manly and virile to protect the lovely maidens of virtue.

There are lovely ladies in danger! Save them! Save them with your muscles!

Though there is the rare occasion that the women help with the defeat of the Nazi menace. 

And sometimes the bait becomes the enemy! Their cunning disguises as harmless local militia are taken away to reveal the vile temptresses they are! Temptresses that want you dead!! Your muscles are needed again! Save the day! With your muscles!

Yes, if you can remember these simple guides for life then you too can be a happy and productive member of society.

And one day you may even have that most desired of things. A happily ever after with your wife.

And your mistress.

In All Their Forms

Breasts are beautiful, no matter their form. They come in all sizes. Small, pert and perky. A large over flowing handful of voluptuousness. High and up thrust to the sky. Long and drooping towards the ground. Beauty in all shapes.

The slope below a slender neck rises into a round fullness. All sensuous curves and wondrous texture. Such round and heavy beauty with a dark peak. Soft to touch and sensitive to the fingertips. Soft sighs elicited from soft touches. Eyes closed to all but sensation.

Breasts, they serve such a vital part of life. And still hold a fascination for all through all ages. These orbs of sustenance. These spheres of love. These globes of captivation. Weapons of visual distraction for men and women alike. So obviously and beautifully begging for you to touch. 

Yet, as inaccessible as the stars in the sky. Unless you happen to have a pair in easy reach.

Beauty, it is everywhere. All one needs to do is to open your eyes and let them roam.

Ode to early an morning

The sun slowly rises over the horizon, marking the beginning of a brand new day. Mist rises from a dew covered lawn as birds begin to sing and hunt for those grubs and bugs that are unlucky enough to out so early. The roads are silent but for the sounds joggers getting their exercise fix for the day.

I notice none of this as I blearily throw back the covers and disturb the cat from his slumber. Stumbling through the house, narrowly avoiding tripping over him and careening into various walls and pieces of furniture, I eventually make it to the kitchen and its beautiful repository of caffeinated nectar of the Gods who are cranky in the morning.

Before I can make it to my personal nirvana, I must attend to the furred beast that is Sebastian. His insistent demands that I am evil and starving him must be addressed or I will get no peace. The hairy menace does not make it easy as he yowls and winds his way between my legs and sits in front of my feet as I retrieve his food and spoon some into his bowl.

The small beast is appeased, but not the beast within my own mind. It calls for coffee.
I would say that I keep my delicious coffee in a repository worth of its deliciousness, but I keep it in a utilitarian jar to disguise it from any who think to sip from my my fountain of alertness.

I lay out the necessary items. Filter jug. Mug. Teaspoon and sugar. Coffee jar and spoon. And Kettle.
The kettle makes its pleasant bubbling noises as the water boils within.
The filter jug sit on the bench, like an Aztec sacrifice, waiting for the ceremoney to commence. The coffee grounds are poured into the filter jug to await their fate. A click signals the preparedness of the water in the kettle.

The waterfall of hot water sends up a cloud of beautifully scented coffee steam.
My starved senses inhale and bathe in the wafting scent.
As the coffee steeps into the hot water I watch. Pushing down the plunger the coffee grounds are separated out of the sweet caffeinated nectar.
Another waterfall falls, but this time it is infused with coffee. 
Sugar and milk are added, finishing off this wonderful concoction.

I take the first sip and my day begins in truth.

Book Review: Pregnant by the Millionaire. By Carole Mortimer

* Warning: This Review is only for those who enjoy taking the mickey out of everything *

Basic Plot:

Nick and Hebe.

He's a millionaire who owns art galleries in Paris, London and New York. 

Hebe works in his London gallery. Their relation ship starts as, well they sleep together. He has a past tragedy that has made him keep all relationships with the fairer sex casual. She gets the “I'll call you” line from him after they have some fun.

When they see each other again they find out she's pregnant and he goes caveman and declares that they will be married and then he spends the next one hundred and twenty five pages thinking the worst of her.

Then there is the big revelation, all is well, they love each other and they have beautiful babies. Yay.

***

Okay, so I thought this book was a little silly. And maybe I am being a little too harsh on the poor university graduate with a steady job that she also enjoyed who then suddenly seemed to just wilt under her man's stern gaze, like a dying flower in and Australian drought, but i just kept thinking all the way through this book "What the frak, woman? Show some spine! Argh!"

Hebe is a university educated young lady of twenty six living in London and working in one of Nick's numerous art galleries. She is beautiful. In fact, she is so beautiful that Nick makes a reference to her goddess-like beauty. On the first page. In the first few lines.

They've slept together even before the book begins. I'd say fast work on his behalf, but it also has the added bonus of throwing you right into the drama. Well, actually some afterglow, then some sex, then the drama.

The drama begins the following morning when she thinks it'll be all idyllic and expects them to have a nice leisurely breakfast and then maybe continue getting their giggedy on. She's taken aback by his suddenly cold demeanour when he tells her that he'll call her and wants her to leave asap.

Seriously, what did she expect? She'd just slept with her boss!

We get to see Hebe telling herself that she is a modern woman and that she knew he wasn't going to call her anyway. It was just a one night stand. She's not hurt at all *little tear*. She spends the next six weeks moping like a girl who was stood up for the school dance, standing on the front verandah, wearing a really ugly puce dress with lots of bows and bad 80's hair. She has also been feeling a little off the last few weeks too.

Oh noes! She's ill? It must be the plague!

Of course Nick comes back into town and he has spent the last six weeks not sleeping with other women and trying to not think about Hebe.

And, of course, while he was doing whatever it is that owners of art galleries do (forgive my ignorance) he makes a shocking discovery about Hebe. And then when he gets back and confronts her with his shocking discovery, they make another discovery about Hebe. She's pregnant.

Gasp! Worse than the plague!!

Seriously, SAFE SEX people!! Practice it!!

Also, to make matters even better, to the other women that Hebe work with Nick has been with half the population of London, Paris and New York! The animal! 

And of course, both of them blame the other for Hebe's pregnancy.

“You're not on the Pill?”

“I didn't expect to fall into bed with you! You weren't wearing a condom!”

“I didn't think birth control was an issue!”

What are they? Sixteen? 

For an apparently such an independent and modern woman, Hebe seems to be lacking in the spine department. Nick then turns into a medieval lord and demands that she marry him, because to have a proper upbringing and be a real family it requires that the parents be married. 

Gasp Again! 

She cannot be thinking of having a child without a man to help her?? The shock!

I'm probably sounding a little sarcastic at this point about the whole family thing because this seems to be the quarter century or so of the broken home. Also, the fact that she was scared for her safety when she brought up abortion, he threatened to take the baby away from her if she didn't marry him and the fact that he kicks down her bathroom door just after she has taken the pregnancy test when she has said that she'd like to be alone, all lead me to believe he has some serious anger issues. I kept thinking “Quick! Get to the police!” but maybe I have it backwards. 

She did get the man that she had been secretly in love with the whole time he had been treating her like poisoned dirt beneath his feet, her pregnancy was fine, she had beautiful twins, and she was reunited with her long lost father and learned about the mother that she never knew.

D'Awwwww. It all worked out in the end.

***

o_o

A letter from a loving son

Dearest Mother,

I write to you far from the fast paced excitement of London. The bucolic delights of the country are slowly seeping into my veins and I have discovered a previously unknown interest in bird watching.

I do love to observe their lithe movements as they flit from branch to branch. The melodic calls as they search for mate and kin and the way their glorious feathers catch and reflect the sunlight.

I have also been learning about the running of the estate from our good Bondsman, Nielsen. The man is veritable font of knowledge and information. Yesterday I learned about crop rotation.

I was generously allowed an afternoon off by Nielsen and I spent it watching a pair of pygmy rainbow swallows. Nielsen tells me that they haven't been seen in the area for nearly twenty years. It looks like we'll have chicks in the new season.

Do not worry, mother, I will not spend the entirety of my letter to you extolling the virtues of crop rotation and bird watching.

The neighbours have also been extraordinarily welcoming. The Martinsons organised a ball just to celebrate my arrival. It was, to say the least, a most enjoyable evening. We danced and made merry well into the small hours of the morning. I must confess, mother dear, that I danced not once but twice with Miss Sarah Martinson. She finds my stories of city life fascinating as she has never been to London before.

Miss Sarah also has the most enchanting laugh. Do you remember the donkey that Farmer Jones had when I was a boy? Her laugh sounds sounds just like that donkey.

I plan to take her riding on the Greens tomorrow. I have organised a gig and I will be picking her up for a pleasant afternoon ride. I am hoping to convince her of my feelings.

I have spoken to her father about the seriousness of my attentions. He was hesitant at first as she is, after all, an heiress with a rather large fortune. And her age is also a barrier but I find her to be wonderful young lady with an enthusiasm for life.

I hope you will come and visit the estate, mother. The doctor did say that you were to come to the country for your health. I know how you love to be the centre of attention in London but, I do hope you can bear to part with your cronies and see the marvels that I, with the help of the steadfast Nielsen, have wrought here. And you might be surprised to find yourself with a new daughter in the near future.

Your loving son,

Eustace Abernathy  

A day in the life of a fictional character

The day started like any other day. The sun rose. Well, the planet rotated and made the sun seem like like it was rising over the horizon. I had reached the inn the previous evening rather late and I hoped I hadn't slept through breakfast. Downstairs, I was met by my pet, Peanut. I sat down to eat, but the innkeeper seemed reluctant to serve me.

I got fed up and got my food myself. The day was getting on and I wanted my coffee.

After this somewhat dilatory start to the day, we set off to the park.

The other citizens ran and hid so we had the grounds to ourselves. Peanut amused himself my chasing the squirrels. And damaging public property. 

I wasn't expecting to hear from Boss Therazine at all,  but I was startled by a rather insistent call from her. I had to meet her immediately. There was an emergency.

Dammit, I wanted the day off and the Boss gave me the creeps. She just floats there like a corpulent pustule of malevolence with her hulking minions looming over everyone.

Boss Therazine was worried about one of her couriers. The wolf girl hadn't checked in in two days. Well, worried wasn't the right term. She was more furious that the girl hadn't finished her deliveries and gotten back.  

I checked with my usual contacts. 

Mednaga didn't know anything. I had to leave before I opened my eyes and looked at her.

DoomHilda tried to eat me. She also didn't know anything.

I figured it was time for some fun. So I went plane surfing.

Back to work...

I searched.

And searched.

 And searched some more.

Then I got bored and, as I was close to my Inn anyways, decided to have some coffee.

The Innkeeper came out of the accommodations, screaming about huge spiders. I was never going to be able to enjoy my coffee. So many interruptions.

To cut a long story, well long, I found her. She was asleep.

Lazy bugger.