Paint Paint Paint. That's all I've been doing all day. I hate painting. It's not what Tiggers do best. It's my least favourite thing in entire universe (apart from stripping wallpaper, anything involving large quantities of human waste, and whatever else it was I said a few days ago that I hated doing more than anything else in the entire universe)
What is it with my family? Why has everything has got to be white? My Parent's house is white and now I'm painting Dan's entire house white. White walls, white ceilings, white woodwork. I'm going snowblind!
In addition to yesterday's rantette (about the imposibility of the standards of touristical driving around here at the moment) I came across a cracker this morning. The road between here and Kinlochleven is a windy twisty uppy downy kind of road - most of it is pretty easy driving though if you aren't too gung-ho.
Knowing the road as I do I can tell you the narrowest part of it is the bridge at Invercoe. I'm not sure how old the bridge is but it wasn't really built with modern traffic in mind. If you were a tourist and driving a mobile home the size of a small branch of Tesco's Supermarket where would you stop to look at the scenery?
If you said "on the bridge" give yourself a coconut and go to the top of the class.
There is some sort of World 2CV rally in Edinburgh soon (or last week - or even in a parallel universe) and there seem to be several bejillion 2CVs trundling around the Highlands at the moment. All of them seem to be driven by careful conciderate drivers going in the oposite direction from me. It's bizzare. Whichever way I'm going they all seem to be coming towards me. I never seem to be stuck behind any or see any up the road ahead of me. I'm getting a little paranoid about this.
Too pooped to watch even the crappest of movies this evening, though I did catch the end of The Trollenberg Terror on the box last night. " ... and the The Award for Crappest Alien Monsters Ever in a British SF Film goes to ..."
I wish I had seen it from the start but the best line of what I saw had our podgey American Lead grabbing a Molotov Cocktail and say:
What is it with my family? Why has everything has got to be white? My Parent's house is white and now I'm painting Dan's entire house white. White walls, white ceilings, white woodwork. I'm going snowblind!
In addition to yesterday's rantette (about the imposibility of the standards of touristical driving around here at the moment) I came across a cracker this morning. The road between here and Kinlochleven is a windy twisty uppy downy kind of road - most of it is pretty easy driving though if you aren't too gung-ho.
Knowing the road as I do I can tell you the narrowest part of it is the bridge at Invercoe. I'm not sure how old the bridge is but it wasn't really built with modern traffic in mind. If you were a tourist and driving a mobile home the size of a small branch of Tesco's Supermarket where would you stop to look at the scenery?
If you said "on the bridge" give yourself a coconut and go to the top of the class.
There is some sort of World 2CV rally in Edinburgh soon (or last week - or even in a parallel universe) and there seem to be several bejillion 2CVs trundling around the Highlands at the moment. All of them seem to be driven by careful conciderate drivers going in the oposite direction from me. It's bizzare. Whichever way I'm going they all seem to be coming towards me. I never seem to be stuck behind any or see any up the road ahead of me. I'm getting a little paranoid about this.
Too pooped to watch even the crappest of movies this evening, though I did catch the end of The Trollenberg Terror on the box last night. " ... and the The Award for Crappest Alien Monsters Ever in a British SF Film goes to ..."
I wish I had seen it from the start but the best line of what I saw had our podgey American Lead grabbing a Molotov Cocktail and say:
"I'll go outside and throw a bomb at it and see what happens - don't open this door again until I knock."
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