Proposals and birthdays

Actually, I simply recollected some stuff. its my sibling's 40th birthday one month from now and he's in the States. What would I be able to perhaps get him? I have no clue, yet I would do well to consider it quick. His birthday is two days after mine, so as I'll most likely be smashed four days in a row I need to consider it now-ish.

Additionally, I got an email from a companion yesterday – her and her chap were in a genuine street mishap as of late. Clearly an auto hit them from behind on the motorway. Must have been hard, as she lost control, the auto hit a hindrance, flipped and moved twice. Clearly, the roofy bit arrived in a dump so regardless of moving, it was scarcely pounded whatsoever.

They both exited after the auto arrived right far up. Cuts and wounds, a knock on the head and whiplash. Beats kicking the bucket however.

In the rescue vehicle on the best approach to clinic, he evidently proposed. In her words, "It just took a close passing knowledge to get it going."

She said yes, typically.

Harsh times Part 2.

That being said, today absolutely sucks jackass balls.

It's completely pissing down with downpour, and its blustery as well, so the downpour is close level. I can't recollect seeing precipitation like this in The Shire some time recently. I really very like it, and it ought to help that old water table songbird recoup also.

I think we've earned a not too bad summer after this.

I likewise simply used 25 minutes on the telephone with Inland Revenue, which was, erm, pleasant. Things aren't looking so terrible with them, and to be reasonable, they are grisly useful while evacuating your cash. Actually, for this situation, their cash.

I do have a few cakes however, so its not all awful. Actually, I am having issues with strained today, aren't I? I had cakes. Presently I have cake. Three turns into one, and not as a result of some intricate cake-mashery shenanigans or hereditary cake designing.

There's a thought. Envision, mixing a frosted bun and a cream bun…  Hang on, you can as of now get those. Alright, shortbread and something like caramel and chocol... Done, too bad. Alright, what about a frosted bun and a bacon sandwich. That works for me, and tomorrow I may very well attempt one.

Frog in-the-doughnut. The potential outcomes are enormous, and I will be offering the licenses to neighborhood bread cooks whenever soon. I as of now have my deals systems as a main priority; a container of methadone, an Etch-a-Sketch and a Soo glove manikin.

At any rate, now I have a huge amount of work to do and it turns out my manager has sold the title page to an organization not in the mag and let them know they could be in the mag. This is in spite of my due date being last Monday. So I need to discover room... Agh! Likewise I have three organizations sitting tight for duplicate endorsement on content I haven't composed yet... Design's gone well however, and a large portion of the initial two thirds is carried out, with the exception of four pages I'm chipping away at now. That being said, its really two pages, four half pages however. That won't take long to do, 90 minutes or somewhere in the vicinity, then the initial two thirds of the mag is carried out and I can get on with duplicate.

I'm headed toward attempt and accomplish. Also ponder frosted bacon buns. Mmmmmmm.

She has found I am sensitive pretty much all over the place, which is plain uncalled for in light of the fact that she is not sensitive whatsoever. Additionally, while she is having an extreme time at this moment and there's almost no I can do to help, she stays breathtaking and I adore her profoundly.

Harsh times.

Yes they are. Myself and SLF have been squabbling, and my due date has matched with an extreme time for her. I need to complete the magazine, obviously, and I'm frantically attempting to re-situate myself (no play on words proposed) after what demonstrated an emptying excursion to Macau.

I need to help her, however I don't know how. The consequence of a prior discussion will evidently be no contact until Wednesday, whatsoever. Which outright sucks.

I'm in a terrible state of mind and I have a considerable measure to do. I figure I'll be back when its set, unless something energizing happens meanwhile. Y'all be great now.

I went out the previous evening, however I had anticipated that will see SLF; I attempted to contact her in the day very much a couple times without any result, figured she was occupied, so organized to meet a companion for a lager.

Night in the pub was exceptionally average, brew was great as well. I didn't have a considerable measure, however what I had I thought may help me stay asleep for the entire evening surprisingly this week. I'm bolstered up of seeing 4am.

It didn't work. I recovered a kebab on the path from the pub and consumed it while viewing some of Novo, an exceptionally particular and sweet French motion picture. About sexing.

Went to cot about midnight, and woke up around 3am. I required a poop, for your data. Presently, this is surprising, however I thought, best accomplish it with. I then used the vast majority of the following two hours on the lav, and my bumhole is currently, exceptionally despondent for sure.

I think it was the kebab. Truth be told, I'd put cash on it. My bumhole is even now griping, as well. Grrrrrr. So I got fuck-all slumber (well, possibly five hours altogether), I didn't see SLF (who appeared a bit off about it, which is somewhat odd as I'd attempted to contact her enough times… ) and my bumhole is similar to an awful joke about Johnny Cash.

Yippee for Su

Badgers

Badgers are short-legged omnivores in the weasel family, Mustelidae. The 11 species of badger are grouped in three subfamilies: Melinae (9 Eurasian badgers), Mellivorinae (the ratel) and Taxideinae (the American badger). The Asiatic Stink badgers of the genus Mydaus were formerly included within Melinae (and thus Mustelidae), but recent genetic evidence indicates these are actually members of the skunk family, placing them in the taxonomic family Mephitidae.

Badgers include the species in the genera Meles, Arctonyx, Taxidea and Mellivora. Their lower jaws are articulated to the upper by means of transverse condyles firmly locked into long cavities of the skull, so dislocation of the jaw is all but impossible. This enables the badgers to maintain their hold with the utmost tenacity, but limits jaw movement to hinging open and shut, or sliding from side to side without the twisting movement possible for the jaws of most mammals.

Badgers have rather short, fat bodies, with short legs built for digging. They have elongated weasel-like heads with small ears. Their tails vary in length depending on species; the stink badger has a very short tail, while the ferret badger's tail can be 46–51 cm (18–20 in) long, depending on age. They have black faces with distinctive white markings, gray bodies with a light-coloured stripe from head to tail, and dark legs with light coloured stomachs. They grow to around 90 centimetres (35 in) in length including tail. The European badger is one of the largest; the American badger, the hog badger and the honey badger are generally a little smaller and lighter. The stink badgers are smaller still, and the ferret badgers are the smallest of all. They weigh around 9.1–11 kg (20–20 lb) on average, with some Eurasian badgers weighing in at around 18 kg (40 lb).

Oscar C. Badger II

On January 19, 1948, Badger was promoted to Vice admiral and, the following month, became Commander, Naval Forces, Far East. In that post, he observed the gradual loss of the Chinese mainland to Communist forces and supervised the retirement of American forces to port cities on the China coast. Following his service as commander of Western Pacific naval forces, Badger was appointed as Commander, Naval Forces, Western Pacific, later commanding the Eleventh Naval District, and the Eastern Sea Frontier.

On June 19, 1951, during congressional hearings on the loss of China, Vice-Admiral Badger testified that the U.S. arms embargo against Nationalist China led to a loss of capability and morale that resulted in their defeat by Communist Chinese forces led by Mao Tse-Tung.[3] He retired from the U.S. Navy in June 1952 with the rank of full admiral.
Admiral Badger died on November 30, 1958 and was buried in Section 2 of Arlington National Cemetery.

Officially, USS Badger (FF-1071) was named in honor of all the members of the Badger family who served in the U.S. Navy, but when she was launched in 1968, her sponsor, Isabelle Austen Badger, Adm. Badger's widow, said "I christen thee Oscar Charles Badger II!".

Fucking shattered.

Fucking shattered.

But very, very happy indeed.

Where shall I start... I'll start on Friday. Friday, myself and Boss went in to Hong Kong. Our flight was at 0:50am, so we planned to spend the day shopping in HK and having a mooch around.

Problem is, our flight was at 0:50am Friday morning. Travel agent had completely fucked up, so Boss had to buy two new tickets back. Which were only £260 or so, which is excellent. Highly recommend Oasis Hong Kong, our flights out were only £365 return or something. Not bad.

Anyway, then we went mooching and shopping, after marvelling at how slick and uncomplicated our travel exploits had been thanks to great staff and airports, and common sense.

In HK, we went to Stanley Market, which was a real experience. I bought a load of stuff for SLF and The Daughter, which I think will go down well. Also, it was a fun experience. Haggling prices down, having a good laugh and just enjoying it all. Of course, I was fucking knackered still, as I woke up at 4am that morning, but that's travel for yuz.

Flight back was good, again I sat with nice people. I watched the truly fucking awful Mission Impossible III, a shitfit of… shitness and no mistake. I mean the flight was good apart from that movie.

Saturday morning, plane lands at 6:30am ish. I leave, say seeya to boss after a good trip, and make my way to central London. I go to a hotel near Hyde Park, where I'm staying with SLF for the weekend. The staff were wonderful, they made me comfortable and were really helpful despite there being no room for me for a while.

SLF arrived around 5:30 or so after a long journey. She looked fantastic, I was so pleased to see her. We walked down to the hotel, and had a very relaxed evening indeed. Well, ish. We went over to Chiswick to a Greek restaurant I'm fond of (Kalamari on Chiswick High Road, Fact Fans), as I thought she'd like it. She did, it was as friendly there as usual and we had a great table in the window. I was really shattered despite a two-hour nap in the afternoon, but I held my end up. So to speak.

Sunday, we went for a short run in Hyde Park, which was nice. Busy, but nice. Lunchtime we went into Soho to meet old mucker Mara for lunch at Itsu, probably my favourite place for sushi in central London. It was lovely – I'd been excited about the two of them meeting, as I am when SLF meets all my friends. It was good – great food, lots of chat and the time flew by. We met about 1:30 and next thing you know it's 4pm.

That evening, we went to an Italian restaurant near the hotel. The hotel was (and probably still is) in Lancaster Gate, quite a posh wee area as it's right on the park and very central. It means you get a mix of the famous, the posh and some right tossers, which is always interesting. There was an actor in the restaurant and I still can't think of his name. Craggy, old, and not that well known – the kind of actor I probably know the life story of, I just can't add it up in my head.

Anyway, SLF's food was good, my pizza was very disappointing. Ah well. We went back and got an early night, as again, I was shattered and needed to be on good form the next day, which we shall call 'Monday'.

Monday arrives, and we mooch about for most of it. After 12, we head for Wembley to collect Pearl Jam tickets. On the way, we stop for pizza (at Bella Italia, I think it's called – a bloody chain place and it does the best pizza I've had in ages. Gah).

We get to Wembley Arena, and the lady asks for a booking reference. Now, I'm pretty sure I was just supposed to bring photo ID, which I told her. She said is it a fan club booking, I said yes, she directed me to the right place. At the right place, I had one lovely moment, though I did not know it until later. Two tossers had been walking in front of us; one threw his Coke bottle down on the ground. I hate littering by anybody, but by someone in their late 20s when there are fucking tons of bins in the area… that's just childish.

Anyway, he got to the head of the queue before me. He had a printout with a booking reference on it… but no photo ID, which is what you need to collect a fan club booking.

Ha ha. Tosser.

So I got the tickets, and we were all excited… And tired. So we went back to the hotel for a nap in the afternoon. How old are we?

Nice kip though, I must admit.

So we mosey on out at about 7:15 and make it in perfect time. We miss the support act and get in line for the right entrance. So far so good. We get in, find the right stand, walk in. I clock which row we're in… and it's right at the front, Row C. In front of us is only standing room, and we're a good 10 feet higher than them. So there's nothing between us and Pearl Jam.

There was a minor falling out, when a bloke two seats down decided to have a cigarette. In an enclosed auditorium, with massive, glowing 'NO SMOKING' signs. Sadly, all grace left me, and I did not look around before saying very loudly the following:

"I can smell a cigarette. Who the fuck would light up in here, for fuck's sake? Now which cunt is that? Look, there's giant fucking 'no smoking' signs over there!"

The chap waved his apology (in the most manly way he could, which was quite amusing), and stubbed it out. Dipshit was caught again by the stewards later, as they came over to him with a torch and he held his hands up to say 'Me? No, if I were smoking I would have a cigarette in my hands, surely! You are mistake, Blue Collar!'

They pointed the torch down and smoke was hanging around his feet from where he'd just stubbed it out. What a dumb cunt.

Oh yeah, Pearl Jam. I may do a post on its own about the gig. Even with my hopes and expectations, I was blown away. They were exceptional, really something very special indeed. Yes, more on that later, or tomorrow.

We got back to the hotel about midnight with no problems whatsoever on transport, which was excellent and then some. We had a couple of pints of Guinness, which went down a treat. We were both sore and parched after much shouting and singing. Did I mention we'd gone to see Pearl Jam?

Today, we got up, packed and went over to Tate Modern to see the Dali exhibit, which is brilliant. Not that I expect anything else from that place. The highlights for me were his wonderful Shirley Temple picture, which was way ahead of its time, and the collaboration between Dali and Disney, called Destino. It's bloody brilliant – even better in the exhibition because you can see the working ideas the two men had put together. The film, seven minutes long, was finished in 2003 by Disney after being shelved in the 30s. They've obviously worked hard to create the exact vision from the working notes and Dali's exhaustive working sketches and paintings. It's great.

The whole exhibition was bloody good. I was surprised by how good his fine detail is in oil, it's really something. And there are a couple of bloody enormous abstract compositions in there that are surprisingly good, and quite simple.

Then we picked up our bags and got the train home. And here I am.