Saturday, 28 April 2012

Holly's Inquest / Signs of the Times

My friend Holly's family and her circle of friends have been awaiting this; the Inquest verdict.
Here is a link to a piece from this week's Salisbury Journal.


In Salisbury, a bunch of plain printed black and white signs have popped up. They say, simply;



Some had handwritten additions.

One said: 'We Know'

and one said: 'Paul Daniels is my Father'

Eris needs more lerts.

Thursday, 26 April 2012


I think I'm a bit better.

Maybe not...

Habbo. You can never leave.

Saturday, 7 April 2012

McShane and O'Ryan

Gods help me, I woke up at Quarter-past-Five this morning, from an... odd dream; ~ I and my husband have been watching a LOT of Lovejoy lately, and the theme-tune keeps playing in our heads, earwormery, so... 

This morning I had the tune playing in my head in my sleep, which triggered a segment of dream that got me so... Um... 'roused, that I woke up... Lovejoy had all his clothes on, but he was making extremely lewd pelvic thrusts.

I'm not sure whether it was the embarrassment of his naughty dancing, or the shock of him unexpectedly having hip-length hair that woke me, but I've been sufficiently disturbed or perturbed, to blog about it.
... and post a few too many illustrative photographs.

I'm just glad to have a new fantasy-man with no painful emotions attached to him, and no insane hope, or worse, plan, to 'meet someone like him' - He's no Severus Snape - but he indulges my visual needs. *sigh, mope*

Maybe he could have been
Severus Snape after all...
Hmm... what was I going to say, apart from the above? I forget... I may remember, soon... It's Ten-to-Eight right now, and I need more caffeine to think with.

I've met my Fantasy Man, and it nearly killed me... They can all stay in the realm of fiction from now on!

Ohhh I remember what I wanted to say - I am NOT pleased by our Dear Majesty's Government's Plot to monitor digital communiques in the UK. Boo, Hiss. 

Cardinal O'Ryan in Scotland suggesting all Christians should wear a Cross at all times, etc... Statements from him and the Pope;  Christians 'should be free to act as their conscience dictates/in accordance with their beliefs' - Oh goody... That's straight-forward enough sanction to the average nutjob to do the nutjobbery well - isn't it nice having someone to tell you what to do? Mummy? Daddy? Teacher? Boss? Pope? The Little Voices that say KILL THE QUEERS? *coughs* How many Christians who feel discriminated against do it unto others? Arrrrrrgh. The little voices tell me, perhaps, Christians marking themselves out might actually be a useful warning. Thanks, Cardinal O'Ryan!

I am not anti-Christian, as such, but I am against religious groups inciting hatred, whatever the religious group is. Humans are quite disappointing, as a species. The potential we have is untapped - we're drugged on the Valium of Television, the Amphetamine of Consumerism, and scared witless by those that want to play Whack-a-Mole with any heads that start to raise.

God, impart Thy strength;
And in strength, power to suffer;
And to suffer for the truth;
And in the truth, all light;
And in light, purity;
And in purity, love;
And in love, God;
And in God, all goodness.

I'm anti-Hate, simply. It's hard when it's our own minds getting all twisted.

It took me an hour to write this drek? Oh well... Mmmm, it must be time to put Lovejoy on again...

Tuesday, 3 April 2012

"Meeting Mr. Charmer Hurts"

Meeting Mr. Charmer Hurts; - 
You SweetHeart, are the Tiger I cannot Hold,
and Meeting Mister Charmer Hurts, 
with your weapons of eyes and words, 
and your armour against the world.
No one can hurt you if they're swooning, 
hit by your poison-darts, sweetest deathstroke 
your sharpest treason, your claws on bleeding souls.

No one would hurt you, when you're winning, 
warring brave against paper-cut-outs,
fighting hard over chaff and dross.

Meeting Mister Charmer Hurts, 
with his weapons of eyes and words, 
his armoury of amour's style and 
armour against the world.

Because no one would hurt you while you think 
you're winning, there's no way you could ever lose.
I think I felt it, when you tore off my butterfly-wings,

I think I felt it when you thought fondly of me, 
I thought so many, stupid things, 
all the things that cannot be...

Meeting Mister Charmer Hurts, 
with his weapons of eyes and words, 
his armoury of amour's style and 
armour against the world.

The Wine that burnt my Gullet,
got me so Drunk, I could not see,
The Sabbat I was attending, was never meant for me,

The Tree with the Poisoned Apples,
grew in a Desecrated Church,
Guzzle my fill of Cider, Birch-whip me, Set me Free...

Fading dreams don't turn to nightmares, 
Dashed hope's shards erode in the caress of sands of time, 
soft water beneath bridges passes, reflects wishing-stars still, in the sky.

Meeting Mister Charmer Hurts, 
with his weapons of eyes and words, 
his armoury of amour's style and 
armour against the world.

Meeting Mister Charmer Hurts.