After the rain she waffled on about utter garbage


Wow skies, I’d forgotten how just-washed and bright and blue you could be. And the grass has taken on that peculiarly English green that only comes from a week of set-in rain. So very crisp and sunny here, a perfect day.

I am however still sick. The sprogs look a bit more cheerful today, mainly because they could actually go play outside.

A huge pot of chicken and veg soup is on the stove, although it is actually composed 90% of garlic and ginger. It is so strong, that I, who have lost all sense of smell and taste, can detect this. This does not bode well for The Slave, who doesn’t have a spare room to retreat to in the face of those hanging drifts of garlic/ginger/dhania fumes.

So obviously my brain is somewhat frazzled and I’m not making the best sense or thinking well. I have a theory that snot is just your brain disintegrating. I mean, we’re all aware that Cat’s normal understanding of most things is limited to “Huh? Oh cool. That’s awesome/not awesome.” but now it’s more like. “Uh. Oh. Okay.”

Oh to be one of those people who come across as intelligent and witty. It would be so much fun, instead I sound like I’m perpetually stoned. Which is ironic, considering that I have finally got my friend reading Black Wings for the drug references so she can fix them. All ready she’s like “uh…you know you need to change this stuff?” I’m all yeah, hit me baby. One more time.

Ah fuck me what a load of waffle.

Cat, you are aware that you can edit all this stuff out? Before you post.

But I like to live life on the razor’s edge. Or something. No. Wait.

Here, I’ll give you some random useless info about me, and you can retaliate in comments. Um, I mean, you can respond in kind.

I have a foul foul mouth. Seriously, I call my computer “you cunting thing.” Sometimes in love, mostly in hate. This makes my good Christian middle class mom sad.

Okay, your turn.