Yes I'm very dull, no I've not been anywhere else, yes i'd love to, but no I won't afford it, not in this life time anyway :(

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or vertaling Duits Nederlands

Yes, I'm still alive

Just about. I've been busy knitting, moping, slaving away at work etc.

Just a quick one about more stuff I feel I really need. I caved and bought the boots though so I really can't justify it. I mean, I probably could justify it, but my bank wouls stomp all over me with charges on the extra cash I'd need and I've only bought one present so far for christmas and there's only one more payday unless I shop on Christmas eve.

I have this tattoo on my right calf. It's from a book by HR Giger called the Mystery of St. Gottardo. Now there's jewellery to be had and I love it!

Where's the billionaire with the Angina when you need him, eh?

BTW, I don't think I ever mentioned my tattoo's before, did I? I'm not sure. I have 10 in all. Fun fact for the day is that.

was going to post something about a wedding I went to and various recent house sitting duties, but there's a hedgehog crunching it's way through a saucer of slug covered catfood just outside my back door, so I'm off to watch her with my fingers in my ears instead.

I know it's rude to stare at someone when they're eating, and she's probably flea ridden and will pass on ticks to my cats, but she's sooooo cute, scrunching up her little eyes when she hits slug instead of supermeat.

We don't put it out for her, btw, it's the cats that he's refusing to eat because he's too hot; and it's outside to prevent it drawing fly's, wasps, slugs and all our neighbour's cats into our kitchen while it's too warm to shut the door yet.

At the moment I'm happy and content.
In the grand scheme of things I'm still a moody miserable cow, but this week has brought a few nice things that have cheered me up.

I finally got a book delivered from Amazon that I've been waiting ages for. It's the latest translated work by my favorite artist Junko Mizuno.
It's several pieces done as a serial, collated into one book.

"In this dreamy science fiction fantasy, Junko Mizuno illustrates a story full of catfights, alien safari adventures, evil experiments and a girl who dreams of becoming a pop idol. Following the Third World War, humankind left the toxic surface of the Earth and built an underground city to survive. A serious social problem has emerged in this new society: hyperorexia, or severe overeating, a side effect of the "Pure Trance" life-sustaining pill."

Wow, all my favorites, who could want more.

I have all of her stuff, some English translations and some in Japanese (some in both I'm ashamed to say) and some magazines or books which contain just one page or one teeny illustration by her.
She's one of the few people who's stuff I'll actually admit I'm an out and out fan of.
"Fans" always strike me as a bit creepy and obsessive. I don't see why you need to know every particle of information about someone to appreciate their art, writing or film making. A bit of back ground can be enlightening, but it can also sap all the magic out of a performance or a piece.
So I'm a fan of her work, and admire her for her work, but I couldn't tell you her star sign or anything, like I say, fandom can be creepy as hell.

I also just finished a Modesty Blaise book.
I love Modesty, I want to be her. I love the total retro escapist nonsense of those books. I've read all but one and a bit. The one is proving hard to get hold of and the bit I have, but it's a short story in a collection where Modesty and Willie DIE! I'm putting it off and may never actually read it.

On Monday My mate took me to see Devils Rejects. I was almost put off by the fact that it's the sequel to House of 1000 Corpses, which is dire, even when watched while half cut, but he wanted to treat me to a trip to the movies and it was that or Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (no, no and no again!).
I really enjoyed it, and he was right, I did need a trip to the movies, I hadn't been in what seemed like and age!
It's actually a good film, bit self indulgent at times and shameless rip off of / beautifully done homage to, 70's road movies and horror (Texas chainsaw for sure). It's slick and smoothly done and has a really good soundtrack, i.e. no White Zombie.

I watched, and have no shame in admitting to watching, the first episodes of Lost, which has just started screening over here. It was the reviews that compared it to Twin Peaks that won me over the most.
It's sod all like Twin Peaks, too polished and neat, but it is a bit fucking weird. Only a bit mind, it's still very mainstream.
I enjoyed it thoroughly though, I know I'm going to be hooked, for Dr Jack if nothing else (OK you can throw things at me for my being a total girl now if you like).

My Nan made a batch of raspberry jam and I've been eating it on crusty bread with English butter all week.

For those of you overseas, specifically in the US, Jam is the stuff which comes in jars, made from fruit boiled up with sugar and pectin (my Nan uses currants instead of packet pectin, nicer by far, I think you can use apple juice or gooseberries too, but don't take my word for it).

You call it Jelly, it's not Jelly, jelly is the stuff thats made from fruit flavoured Gelatine, is made in molds, is eaten with icecream by children at parties, and wobbles on a plate.

You call that Jello. Knock yourselves out with that one, but don't call Jam Jelly.


I've also been knitting some more, which has almost dented the happy theme. I won't go on too much and turn this into a knitting blog, most knitting stuff is totally lost on none knitters, and can, frankly, get a bit dull.

I've been doing an intarsa pattern, also known as fairisle, which is where you knit a pattern with different coloured wool.

It's also a way to find out swear words you didn't know you knew as it's really fucking difficult!

I've unraveled it twice. I'm trying very hard to stay zen about it and have a piece of piss scarf going on the side to switch to when it get near to throwing it out the window or burning it. I think it's good though that I'm mature enough now to see when it needs to be unraveled and started over, rather than having a tantrum and giving up or just plowing on and undoing up with a mess.

That makes me happy.

That's all for now.

4 pages of strip to screen comparisons for Sin City.

Even more absa-fucking-lutely amazing than I first thought it was.

On blogger depression

Hmmm.
If you have brown skin, don't have a very good command of the english language, come from a country where people do carry guns in the street, organised crime is a real issue, and so if you see a bunch of armed guys running at you (failing to reveal themselves as police officers until you're already fleeing in blind panic, according to some witness reports), it's a fucking good idea to run like hell;
watch out, you're fair game.

Having worked for the court service and a criminal law solicitors, I've seen how very often the police fuck up due to over unprofessional, emotional responses and dumb, macho bullishness, it scares me that there's so little condemnation of their laxity anyway (often, btw, leading to a real criminal escaping conviction through their stupidity) let alone when they're armed.

I've read of, heard of and spoken to people, "normal" folk, just going about their day, who've been affronted and outraged that they've simply been stopped and searched by the police because they fitted one profile or another (young and black, male and asian, middle aged creepy looking loner) or been in a certain place at a sensitve time.
The reasons that happened to them, the justification given, is barely a heartbeat away from the reasons that an innocent man, who came to our country to work hard because he heard it was safe here and free from the violence rife in his homeland, got shot five times in the head at close range while being held down.

You got him in the head, at close range, why five times if you're not being over-emotional or trigger happy? I can see why any londoner would be emotional, angry and afraid right now, but that's not what armed police officers are PAID to be, they're supposed to be professionals, paid for with my tax money.
For many this is showing to be a case of "not in my name (as long as it's not in my back yard)", don't shoot the arabs over there, but knock yourself out over here.

Never mind how much it costs the taxpayer (that'd be me then) when some numbnuts gorilla in blue serge lets off a few rounds.

This is why I avoid social comment, I have an acid stomach now.

On a less angry note, anyone who read about my change in sanitary protection a couple of posts ago, Aunt flo's gone home, and the diva cup was fantastic!
None of the faintly icky new problems I'd anticipated, and none of the niggles I'd had with other options. I'm a convert, almost evangelical, and despite being a bit expensive, it'll have paid for itself within three months.
And I get to be a smug enviornmentally friendly person.