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Irised J. Pig

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(no subject) [Jan. 21st, 2007|09:00 pm]
Irised J. Pig
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From New Scientist: [Jan. 19th, 2007|10:56 pm]
Irised J. Pig
[Current Mood |Amused and tired]
[Current Music |There'll be some changes made]

In his book Our Inner Ape, de Waal tells the story of a zookeeper used to working with chimps, who was introduced to bonobos and accepted a kiss from one of his new primate friends. "The keeper was understandably taken aback when he felt the bonobo's tongue in his mouth," de Waal recounts. While chimps are masters of the kiss of peace, bonobos are enthusiastic tongue-kissers who will make a pass at almost anyone.
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In which I mumble about required post lengths. [Jan. 19th, 2007|08:18 pm]
Irised J. Pig
So I was reading bad_rpers_suck and someone mentioned a role-playing game with a three paragraph minimum for posts. I didn't pay all that much attention at the time, but now several days later it's sunk in.Three paragraphs? THREE? What the ever-loving hell?

For one, I was alway taught at school that you started new paragraphs with stuff like focus shifts, subject shifts, place shifts or time shifts (even if they were only very minor ones). Every single post? Wow, have fun writing conversations there guys.

Secondly ... well, what would you write? Sure there are occasions when three paragraphs or more are suitable. But other occasions, well, unless you're writing about every pearlescent drop on your character's quivering ebony lashes...

I can see myself in a situation where the natural length of the post was fairly short. Let's say I'm playing a chap called Richard. It would go something like this:

Richard sighed and watched his cup of his tea, aimlessly stirring the spoon around. The clinking noises it made sounded unusually loud in the expectant silence. After he'd wasted as much time as he dared, he looked up at her again.
"Of course I didn't," he said, trying to sound believable but lacking the energy to put much effort into the lie. "I don't even like sheep."

Meanwhile in East Finchly, an old lady was watering her garden. Which plants deserved to be watered first - the petunias or the violets? The petunias had been particularly good today, but then come to think of it so had that naughty old spurge in the corner! Thoughtfully she scratched her mustache as she regarded the plants with a beady eye and a beady elbow and mentally totted up their performance. The zinnias had been particularly cheerful, and of course the cornflowers had greeted her so merrily when she'd stepped out in the morning. They definately deserved something special, but then ...
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(no subject) [Jan. 16th, 2007|07:01 pm]
Irised J. Pig
When you're picking up horse shit and you start noticing similarities between the manure and cake, you know it's time to go inside and eat something.
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I just don't know what to do with myself ... [Dec. 23rd, 2006|07:36 pm]
Irised J. Pig
[Current Music |Don't let the days go byyyy]

You can use an erasor to get rid of that annoying adhesive stuff that price stickers leave behind when they're peeled off.
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Who's in the airing cupboard this time? [Dec. 17th, 2006|12:47 am]
Irised J. Pig
[Tags|, ]

Here's one of them:

My parents despair of me.

They're like tiny wiffly wriggly electric bumps. You can't believe how fast these guys can travel. Put them down on the carpet and zoom! They're in the shoes! They're in the bathroom! They're under your legs! They're going cross-country across the top of the food dish!

You always know when a hedgehog's into the food. They smack their lips constantly; they're the noisiest eaters I've ever come across. It actually sounds kind of like a shoe creaking, or when the rubber of the sole pulls off something it stuck to on the floor.

Anyway, sitting up at one in the morning in a sparkly jacket is all very glamorous, but I need to sleep. More on the hodgehegs to come.
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This picture brought to you by procrastination and the letter L [Nov. 24th, 2006|12:10 pm]
Irised J. Pig
[Current Mood |Aaaahhh shuttup this amused me]
[Current Music |Chirpychirpy]

freudian_lispkalamburd makes a cake for wolfenwind

Yessss I was there I got there by MAGICZ. You just didn't see me cos you had your head in the pot :0

The finished product was here, woooo green pretty!

P.S: I scribbled this while I was studying for my learner licence test which I passed ahahahahah :D
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It was so beautiful... [Nov. 20th, 2006|02:22 pm]
Irised J. Pig
[Current Mood |amused]

I waited for ages for the pepino to be at perfect ripeness, but I waited too long. I would explain the nuances of flavour that led me to this conclusion, but they were overwhelmed by the pungent stench of stink-bugs. Invisible stink-bugs that somehow managed to make their smell permiate right through the fruit and linger on my fingers long after I disgustedly chucked the fruit into the chook bucket. Maybe they pissed in it.

Maybe they're stink bugs with super-powers. Super-villains lurking around the garden at night farting on my food.

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(no subject) [Nov. 19th, 2006|09:01 pm]
Irised J. Pig
[Current Mood |Stupid]
[Current Music |Don't fall away ... and leave me to myself]

You know you've got Mad Skillz when: You nochalently toss a ball of horse shite over your shoulder towards the shelter-belt and have it collide with a branch above you, rebounding onto your head.
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Merlin and Arthur. [Nov. 5th, 2006|11:55 pm]
Irised J. Pig
[Tags|, ]

So I woke up this morning, or rather stopped doggedly trying to go back to sleep, when my mother came into my room. With a solomn and mysterious sort of air about her she stood over my bed, hands cupped in front of her chest.
How odd, I thought. I mumbled something incoherent but vaugely question-like at her. She refused to answer. Something else happened that I can't remember because I was half asleep, and then somehow I was out of bed and looking at her hands.
Lo and behold!
They had a baby bird in them.

She found him on the ground in the barn, apparently. She was so madly enthusiastic about the whole rescuing him thing that I almost wished she was being all "let nature take it's course" like she'd been (at least outwardly, she's a bigger softy than me with animals) with my earlier babies. Christ woman, your enthusiasm is sweet and I love that you're happy about this, but I've done this before! I have a rough idea what to do! But after much gentle squabbling over details, the baby was installed in his box. Feeding started. After a mildly worrying delay, crapping started too, with slightly startling enthusiasm.

I decided that dog food with rice in it wasn't good for an insectivore past the immediate first need to get any nutrition into the little body. So I goinked one of the massive frozen lumps of chicken mince out of our freezer. In a little drama that involved three knives, sticky layers of defrosted flesh residue, sprays of frozen flesh crumble and lots of stabbing and sawing, I managed to detach some for baby food. A bit of microwaving and some added egg and I was set. Excellent! It turned out in consultation with a proper bird lady that this choice for food was exactly right, too, which was very nice. I felt terribly expert.

Anyway, things were set. I even managed to persuade mother that 'Guy' wasn't a good name for the little tweet.

And then in the middle of trotting through the stable, I looked down - and a little yellow mouth stared back up at me. Well, beady little eyes stared at me, but it was rather hard to see them past the mouth. So there I was, walking back to the house with another starling nestling in my hands letting me know in no uncertain terms that it wanted some bloody food, and NOW.

Hey, what's two babies when I was looking after one anyway? I'm quite glad there's a pair actually, it's far better for the babies to grow up with some company of their own kind than alone. The newer one is smaller and younger, but not by too much.

Of course another baby meant more food - almost immediately, seeing as he half swallowed the tweezers in his effort to ingest anything that came near his beak. So we had another frozen meat sawing episode, this one slightly more disturbing with mum hacking away at the stuff with a big garden saw and randomly telling us about this movie she saw where a man cut his own penis off with an electric bread knife.

Arthur and Merlin are now snuggled up together in their little polar-fleece lined nest, and heaven knows I wish I was getting as much sleep as them.

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