And needs a fainting couch.
I don’t recall where I picked up ‘neurasthenic’ — doubtless a Victorian novel of some description, since it wasn’t one of the many ways I died playing Oregon Trail. Typhoid, … Continue reading
And he’s okay.
He cuts down trees, he wears high heels, he goes to the lavatory (to stress cry), On Wednesdays he goes shopping and has buttered scones for tea!
As long as she doesn’t try to snort it, we’re okay.
. . . because snorting pixie stix leads to pain and colourful snot. Kids, learn from the lessons of the 80s — the sugar dust goes in the mouth, not … Continue reading
Cue the extreme Gallagher fans.
I can’t help but think that I’m going to get shit for this from some huge Gallagher fans who strongly object to my referring to him as a prop comic, … Continue reading
When I was little, my black Skipper doll was Artemis, so this is sort of a lateral move.
Also, Doctor Barbie was Aphrodite or Hera as needed; Ethiopian Princess Barbie was Demeter; and that same Skipper doubled up as Persephone. Jem played all of the male gods because … Continue reading
The final panda! Like the final countdown, but fuzzy. And reddish. And adorable.
Even moar pandas. . . that aren’t pandas. Darn my punctilious nature.
They trained them with a stick with a red ball on the end — touch the ball, get a treat. Was that already obvious?
He’s going to grow trees in Israel.
Isn’t it good to know, when we were collecting tzedakah in those little blue & white tin boxes, that it was going to help red pandas plant trees with adorable … Continue reading
MOAR PANDAS! (except not technically pandas)
You should expect to be deluged with these all week, after which he may or may not ever reappear. I got a little carried away the day of the zoo … Continue reading
We went to the zoo.
This one’s either super cute or super offensive, so we’ll see what the greater voice of the internets has to say. Or we would, if more than three people ever COMMENTED. … Continue reading
Neurotic Owl 