Nice Work Team

Oh kiddies. You make me so proud, you really do. Reading little old me like you do. 15 clickety-clicks a day! This may not seem like much to those corporate bloggers who sold their souls for gold teeth (not that I'm bitter or anything) but to me, it means ever so much.

Thus, I am putting forth an incentive. The big 1000. It is my Everest, you are my loyal mountain climbers (bitches) and I will you to go forth and climb, climb little minions, until you reach the ultimate. Three zeros, baby, three zeros.

As to why I am talking like a cross between an 18th century maiden and Kenickie from Grease, I am not sure. Embrace it, I guess.

It occurs to me that some of you (Ashleigh) will reach the TRIPLEOH mark just by clicking refresh a bunch of times. I just want to say that I totally approve. Makes me feel like a cool kid.

Gah. I have fallen into the trap, I think, of thinking that every post must contain something special or exciting. I really should realise that I am not a very special or exciting person. I should go drag racing or film an interpretive dance or something for you, but I am afraid I do not love you that much.

Another thing. No-one should be forced to write 11 pages in two hours. Just MEAN.

Well, ciao for niao.


No, you know what, I will stay. Because a) there have been 2 rants in a row with NO PICTURES and b) I have a new obsession. Yes, they come and go quickly.

So here is a picture.

The wrinkles around the paws make me want to die of cuteness. Fact.

ALSO, my new obsession is Olivia Wilde. LOOK.

EXCEPT sadly, the linkyness is not working. SO HERE.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jEQUmGeTxAA&feature=related

BYE FOR REAL.

Junkyard Playground

Another fabulous weekend, what can I say, I get around. Not like that. Oh hush.

Don't freak out

Remain calm. Yes, the banner has changed, but do not panic. All is fine, take deep breaths, chill man.

This is a bit of a useless post to announce the changing of the banner, which you saw anyway when you clicked on the page. BUT it is also a post to tell you about my current obsession, which is folk/pop of the 70s.

The flares were large, the 'staches larger and, evidently, the music was way better.


"... and your blog :P i just read it and i swear to god, its the best thing iv read all day, not that i read a lot of stuff, but even if i did, it would have still been the best thing by far!" 


Thank you Ash, you are the Mary-Kate to my Ashley (or your Ashley, I guess), the chocolate to my peanut-butter, the cocaine to my Charlie Sheen, the left hand to my right foot and the apple o' ma eye.
Ashleigh, you butter my muffin*.

(*Not literally - or metaphorically - but there is never an inappropriate time for Mean Girls).

Gah.

I am in an odd mood. I think it's partly because I have spent the day sick in bed and am slowly going mad because of it. I tried to study and failed and then just lay in bed for about five hours and ate a chocolate bunny. 
So this post will consist of me just saying random stuff that pops into my head. If you leave me now I will not judge you for it. 

Something has been bugging me about good old R.B. and her Friday song. I know, I know, I already ranted about this but you know what, this is my blog and I can do what I like. Anyway, the point is, she gets up in the morning, has her cereal, etc, etc, stimulating stuff, then OMG her friends turn up, they do weird arm-waving out the window and then suddenly she's at a party, it's night and she's awkwardly raving on stage. 
So what happened to school? Did they just drive for eight hours? WHAT?

ANYWAY that blew my mind. It doesn't take much. What else has happened to talk about? I watched two episodes of House, which I love. Hugh Laurie is a genius. Or the writers of House are, anyway. Today, a lady had a floating kidney, so when she lay down she was fine, but when she stood up her kidney dropped and all the machines freaked the hell out and everyone panicked and called crash carts etc, all because of a dodgy kidney attachment. It occurs to me that my desire to be a doctor is based mostly on House. After telling my dad (a doctor) about the floating kidney extravaganza, he said that in medical school, when someone asks you what's wrong with Mrs Bloggs, never ever say that, because she probably just has the flu. 
Another patient had a hemispherectomy, which was pretty freaking awesome. 

There is a lot of sighing and moaning coming from the TV nextdoor, which is worrying. I am going to explore. 
Never mind, it's just another UKTV period drama that my brother is watching. Lots of medieval kings and priests running round in tights and unchaining the lepers to set them free and suspenseful harp music and charging through forests with lances or whatever they do in their spare time. I can only imagine eating pigs and doing it with the jester on top of a castle in Nottingham. 
Oh it's something about Robin Hood. I know that because an angry count just said "Fetch me Robin Hood" and a damsel just yelled "NO, ROBIN".  

I have been failing at infinite geometric sequences. Why bother? I will drop out of school to become a beekeeper, circus performer, bongo-ist or similar. Education is not worth the pain. 
GAH.  

Anna

Not only is my name, but is a lovely, catchy and heartbreaking song by Hello Saferide.

However, this child makes me feel highly inferior.

Xoxo

Adventure Time

Public transport is like an IQ test. Or maybe me saying that means I would fail one. I don't know. You decide.

Also, I have decided that the photo captions are too small, so I am going to change them. Don't be alarmed.

Pretty sunset is a little less pretty when you realise that after sunset comes darkness and you have just got off a bus and don't know where you are.

Sexy bus shelter shot.

Another "Oh, You" shot.

Things I Would Die For : my new shoes. 

My "Come Hither" face.

As you may have guessed, Jemima and I did our usual close-eyes-and-point "where shall we go today" thing. But I bought shoes and she bought everything else, so all was well, and we did not die.

On another note, here is proof that my dog is NOT a lapdog, no matter what it likes to think.

That fat, hairy thing weighs a lot more than you might think. And the dog is pretty heavy too.


Well, that's a little bit of randomness to brighten your day.