crazybrave

facebooking

From HP and the Chamber of Secrets, at page 49:

‘Nice big smile, Harry,’ said Lockhart, through his own gleaming teeth. ‘Together you and I are worth the front page.’

Professor Gilderoy Lockhart

At page 13 of HP and the Philosopher’s Stone:

‘You can’t blame them,’ said Dumbledore gently. ‘We’ve had precious little to celebrate for eleven years.’

‘I know that,’ said Professor McGonagall irritably. ‘But that’s no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.’

A Muggle:

Not a Muggle:

Especially not now. Watching Howard on The 7:30 Report is like looking at a very serious bespectacled duck, furiously paddling just out of shot. Happy days might be here again.

Not much going on here. Little tiny man is six months old on Thursday, and only two weeks until his cast comes off. Hoo-fucking-ray.

Sage is still struggling a little with having an attention grabbing sibling, but I have distracted him momentarily by making my Mum knit them matching veggie hats from Suse’s pattern at Pea Soup. I didn’t want to sound ungrateful but really, Mum, what vegetable is grey? Apart from a mouldy eggplant?

I have been wasting time on Facebook, even thought I don’t really get it. It’s alarmingly cold, and O and I keep on saying “Vy is the top down, it’s focking freezing!” to each other, a habit adopted from a very dear friend who used to watch Schindler’s List so she could perve at Ralph Fiennes. I tried to tell her it was Wrong, but that did not stop her for she is a Bad Womans.

Baudrillard is largely ignored as the conversation ranges across politics and religion, but still manages to hinge largely on sex.

Even though she’d tucked away the fancy ones herself, it could still suprise her to see unrelieved ranks of nana pants in the drawer.

Waking up every two and half hours has destroyed my brain and I appear to have got lost in the world of shabby chic blogging, including Shabby goes camping from where I nabbed that marvellous post title.

Round here we just do shabby, which involves a lot less cushions and white terriers.