*Eek! I’ve got three stories in it, Clicky…*
*’Succulent Sardines’… that’s the first one I wrote…*
*’Mind the Gap’… Mind palace the gap… /chortle…*
*/smirk… ‘Til the phat lady swings? Clicky, you’re such a wag…*
😉
*Thanks, Clicky… I didn’t realise at the time that Monday’s post was on my PPE anniversary…*
*Okay then, Picky… the first time I wrote about what happened…*
“You’ll love this,” Thoughtful Man told me as I placed a plate of sandwiches next to him on the bed. “Typical newsflash these days.”
He tapped the screen of his phone and scrolled about. “Here it is – ‘People locked in London Zoo’,” he announced.
“Okay,” I replied, refilling his glass with fizzy pop.
He looked at me solemnly. “A gorilla has escaped.”
“So there are people trapped in London Zoo but a gorilla managed to escape?” I said, screwing the top back on the bottle. “Typical.”
“That’s what I said,” Thoughtful man replied through a mouth a cheese and pickle “Mm, delicious. You are the Sandwich Queen.”
I blew him a kiss and went downstairs to do the ironing.
*S’okay, Clicky, they’ve caught it… Carry on and have a Song*
*There you are! /taps foot… I got back really quickly. Where have you been, Clicky?
*Red Franks? I left you at Blue Franks… Clicky, dinner is about to arrive and Thoughtful Man and I have ‘Suicide Squad’ to watch… I wanted to write this post before he got home from work… /wrings hands… *
*Chocolate? You think you can get round me with… chocolate? /takes both… Delicious… Damn, did you hear that?*
*That’s Thoughtful Man pulling up now… Okay, Clicky, laters…*
*Clicky… Dear Reader doesn’t want spoilers! …/taps…*
*/squint…*
*/shields eyes from daylight to stop stinging sensation… Clicky! Oh fuck, my eyes… Clicky?!*
*Oh there you are…/kisses snout… Make us a cuppa, Clicky? …/groans and lights up… What the fuck happened last night?*
*Monologued with Legs… Yeah, what else?*
*/slurps and drags… Then what?*
*Oh yeah, fuck… the Debate… That was fucking excellent…*
*Hey! Have you been wearing my Rubedo mask again, Clicky? I was asleep 49 minutes ago… I know, I still have the taste in my mouth… /lights another… Better…*
*Oh yeah, owls… or is that ‘owls?*
*Alright, let me get myself together, Clicky… /yawns… I think I’ll have another coffee… /stop hand sign… It’s okay, darling, I’ll do it…*
*I know! How did he know I was going to use from TBBT in this post?!*
*Brilliant! Finished it at last, Clicky… /yawn… I think I’ll slip off to bed for a recharge… Give Dear Reader a Song, please…*
*No Clicky, nothing to do with Kubrick…*
*Well, I hope Dear Reader takes a look and a loiter, Clicky… It’s a bit like being handed somebody’s holiday snaps, though – it’s hard to enthuse unless you’re really interested or were actually there*
*Kardashian? Hmm…*
*Okay, maybe a little bit to do with Kubrick, Clicky… but it was more about the comment Cade left at Leggy’s place…*
*Jcrashinthecar…dashian, Clicky? …/rolls eyes…*
*A PA, Clicky? …/holds up hands…*
In Internet culture, a lurker is typically a member of an online community or PLN who observes, but does not actively participate.
*Funny thing happened when I was searching for the clip, Clicky… I was reminded that Doctor Who was in ‘Carry On Screaming’…*
*Legs calls him a popinjay, Click, but then Leggy is either No.1 or 13… *
*An Oscar for grouchiness, right… so I think I’ve worked out who are 4, 9, 10, 11, 12 and 13… or one… ish… it’s not easy, you know, Clicky…*
*Tell me about it… / sigh*
It has been a mystery ever since it was discovered more than fifty years ago, and all good theoretical physicists put this number up on their wall and worry about it.) Immediately you would like to know where this number for a coupling comes from: is it related to pi or perhaps to the base of natural logarithms? Nobody knows. It’s one of the greatest damn mysteries of physics: a magic number that comes to us with no understanding by man. You might say the “hand of God” wrote that number, and “we don’t know how He pushed his pencil.” We know what kind of a dance to do experimentally to measure this number very accurately, but we don’t know what kind of dance to do on the computer to make this number come out, without putting it in secretly!
*Ah, Christmas… Clicky, give us a Song…*
*Clicky, I walked past him twice; I couldn’t see how he did it… he’s on a hidden seat, supported by the pole and anchored by the base… Leggy explained exactly how it was done on DM but I’m buggered if I can find…
*No, Clicky, DM… Direct Message on Twitter… Although my boss at the time did call me Penfold… I think it was my glasses…*
*Crikey! No, Commish called me Pepper…*
*Yeah, I miss my chats with Commish… Nevermind, what’s done is done…*
The other day Thoughtful Man brought to my attention a post on his FaceArseBook feed: ‘10 Terrifying Toys From the Past‘. Now, if you’re of a nervous disposition, or require a designated ‘safe space’, can I suggest that you refrain from employing Clicky to explore the link, and go find a quiet corner in which to curl up and cry…
So then, creepy and dangerous toys that were given to children by adults. A couple caught my eye, although all of them sync…
*A shambles… /waits… Clicky, I said shambles… Oh for god’s sake! Get over here and dry your eyes…*
And Hugo…
*Hmm, I wonder if Mike Myers once got a Hugo for Christmas…*
A live bird automata…
*No, Clicky, that’s a man in a bird suit…*
And, syncing with Red Frank’s latest post on MEROVEE…
*Actually, Clicky, No.10 the guillotine toy is sort of Frankish what with it being inspired by the French Revolution… And it was named after a doctor… /grins… Ha! Did you see the the fall…*
Last night I read a post of Cade’s at Sync Miss For Him. One in which he used his formula, and it got me thinking of Helen Keller and how she was taught to write…
In 1886, Keller’s mother, inspired by an account in Charles Dickens’ American Notes of the successful education of another deaf and blind woman, Laura Bridgman, dispatched young Helen, accompanied by her father, to seek out physician J. Julian Chisolm, an eye, ear, nose, and throat specialist in Baltimore, for advice. Chisholm referred the Kellers to Alexander Graham Bell, who was working with deaf children at the time. Bell advised them to contact the Perkins Institute for the Blind, the school where Bridgman had been educated, which was then located in South Boston. Michael Anagnos, the school’s director, asked 20-year-old former student Anne Sullivan, herself visually impaired, to become Keller’s instructor. It was the beginning of a 49-year-long relationship during which Sullivan evolved into Keller’s governess and eventually her companion.
Anne Sullivan arrived at Keller’s house in March 1887, and immediately began to teach Helen to communicate by spelling words into her hand, beginning with “d-o-l-l” for the doll that she had brought Keller as a present. Keller was frustrated, at first, because she did not understand that every object had a word uniquely identifying it. In fact, when Sullivan was trying to teach Keller the word for “mug”, Keller became so frustrated she broke the mug. Keller’s big breakthrough in communication came the next month, when she realized that the motions her teacher was making on the palm of her hand, while running cool water over her other hand, symbolized the idea of “water”; she then nearly exhausted Sullivan demanding the names of all the other familiar objects in her world.
And speak…
To communicate. I have no idea if that was Cade’s intention but that’s what it did for…
*And you, Clicky… /strokes snout…*
I didn’t turn round to answer Thoughtful Man as I was trying not to lose focus. “Taking photos.”
“No, I can see that,” he said with his usual air of exasperation. “What are you photographing and why?”
“Oh, it’s a sweetie present Poppy sent me,” I said. “It’s for a LoL post.”
“What?” he asked with his usual air of confusion. “Da baby leaves us presents but they ain’t so sweet,” he continued in a baby sing-song voice.
Now I was confused so turned round to see him holding our darling dooshund, Poppy. He was obviously addressing her with the cutesy tone. She could obviously smell something tasty, as she was attempting to dig her way out from under his arm to get to me.
“Ah, not Popstar here, Leggy’s girlfriend Poppy from Denmark… she’s sent me some Spunk. Would you like to try some?” I asked innocently.
“No thanks,” he said wrinkling his nose. “Spunk? Have you tried them yet?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
I adopted a serious expression. “Well, they’re hard jellies. The fruity flavoured ones are nice but got stuck in my throat. I’m afraid I spat the salty liquorice one out,” I reported.
Thoughtful Man looked at me intently. “So you both spit and swallow Spunk,” he said slowly, “and you’re going to tell everyone this in a post?”
“Yes,” I said with a vigorous nod. “She also sent me some pipes in a handy travel pack.”
“Oh for god’s sake,” he sighed with his usual air of weariness, turning to leave with the pooch. “Ploppy and I are off the bed. Have fun with your sex and smoking whatever…”
I also received an image of a book this morning, from MEROVEE Frank…
And then a tweet caught my attention…
So I opened it and read the mined lines…
*I saw that, Clicky… the Librarian has an understanding of the power of L-Space…*
‘prestigious (adj.)1540s, “practicing illusion or magic, deceptive,” from Latin praestigious “full of tricks,” from praestigiae “juggler’s tricks,” probably altered by dissimilation from praestrigiae, from praestringere “to blind, blindfold, dazzle,” from prae “before” (see pre-) + stringere “to tie or bind” (see strain (v.)). Derogatory until 19c.; meaning “having dazzling influence” is attested from 1913 (see prestige). Related: Prestigiously; prestigiousness.’
I’d seen and listened to ‘The Strain‘ just last night…
*Ah, Clicky… SA Vile… They really went to town on him after he was dead and unable to mount a defence…*
Thoughtful Man and Poppy returned from their afternoon nap. I was glued to my screen, constructing my post.
“Are you still at it?” he asked dumping the dog on my lap before taking his customary place in the Library.
“Hmm? Yes… did you have a good sleep?”
Thoughtful Man yawned and set Clicky to work. “No, the bitch took up most of the bed. Did you see that a train crashed in New York earlier?”
I looked up startled – I’d just been looking at a train video. “No. I’ve been doing this. What happened?” I opened a tab to check the news.
*Hobo Ken… is that like tramp knowledge… Street smarts, Clicky? …/thinks… Have a Song…*
‘How much is a ‘fuckton’? In measurement; I’m not trying to procure one. Is it on the same scale as a ‘shitload’?’
This is the question I asked my Sync Miss For Him chum Cade | Fon | Apollyon at the weekend…
*Hmm, knot quite like that, Clicky… *
*Clicky, that’s Legs knot Cade… but, yeah, I mentioned it to him this evening…*
*Yikes! Knot something you’d serve your maiden aunt for Sunday tea, Clicky*
Lucky for me Cade also replied…
‘Would you prefer “a metric fuckton” or “a standard metric fuckton” or “a shitload of fucktons” or “a shitton” or a fucking shitload of fucktons”?
‘Come on now…ya gotta be specific when dealing with the “non-quantifiable.”
‘Lemme do this…
Texas Slang: Shitload, or, A Shitload = way too fucking much. Usually, “an unexpected amount of a known quantity.”‘Kinda like God “pouring out his blessings on you” and you are like….”MOTHERFUCKER!!! What in the FUCK do you expect me to do with all this shit?!?!?”
‘Fuckton = incomprehensible only in the fact that it is basically a shitload of shitloads, but it is such a large amount, that it is really irrelevant as it is too much data to process. So much so, that it is easily quantifiable by “taking only what you need, and leaving the rest.”
‘That’s just my opinion tho.’
*I know, I saw that at MEROVEE Frank’s… Knot sure where a ‘shithead’ comes on the scale but it’s gotta be more than a ‘wank’… That’s something, Clicky*
Of course I replied to Cade…
‘No, brilliant, thanks
I wasn’t sure and I appreciate the clarification…
‘So a fuckton is a bit like tapas then?
‘Which is different to a buffet, that being similar to a shamble…
‘Would some sort of shitload/fuckton conversion table help, I wonder
‘Cade, would you mind if I used your last reply in a shamble at the LoL?’
*No it’s definitely tapas, Clicky… think dancing, knot the Strictly Come kind… /thinks… hear*
*Got it?*
‘Um…not sure I follow the meaning exactly…but as far as using my response in whatever wherever whenever…knock yerself out. It’s yours. I wrote it for you/to you, with no strings attached…save for it’s yours to do with as you please (not like I really need to tell you this…but…yeah…or something.)
‘
*That was very nice of Cade. I can’t help feeling his ‘∞ = -1 + 0 + 1 = ∞’ formula has something to do with Room 101… He did turn up at the LoL about that time, Clicky…*
Meanwhile Hugo gave my story submission for the Christmas edition of the Underdog Anthology a spit and polish…
*And some twist suggestions, Clicky, which are private… /glowers… Do that again, shithead, and you’ll be in so much trouble…*
*Damn straight, I’m your boss. Do it again and you’ll be in fuckton of trouble… or a lesser amount yet to be determined… /thinks… More than a shitload… Consider this a ‘bollocking’, Clicky…*
‘
I like to ask beforehand – I’ve included ‘private’ messages from Hugo and Legs in my shambles before. Shambles are… magical lenses… L-sense. An idea, not a belief, springing from the pages of a book. I’m with Rufus
‘Fortunately nobody has said no, and I didn’t think you would… I’m happy to receive an advantage, not comfortable at all with just taking it
‘Do you know, I’d never heard of Jeff Buckley until tonight? My music knowledge is utter ‘wank’ (this doesn’t ever approach a ‘shitload’, never mind a ‘fuckton’)…
‘Thank you, Cade
‘
*Yeah… changed the title a bit and, yes, I realise it’s s a day late… Thought what with Jeff Buckley being pulled under and of course couldn’t overlook that Shiny is back… /clocks time… Shit! Getting late… Song time, Clicky?*
*/squints…*
“Wake up!” said voice and hand in perfect synchronicity. The former, gruffly, and the latter shakily.
“Wha…I’m not sleeping,” I stated, less than convincingly. “I’m listening with my eyes shut.”
Thoughtful Man and I were watching ‘X Men Apocalypse‘. Well, he was, I’d fallen asleep.
“You were bloody snoring.” He turned round to look at me. “You and the pup in harmony. It was more entertaining than that pile of crap.”
I shift up into a sitting position, careful not to disturb the snoozing dachshund by my side She looked so peaceful lying under the quilt, with just her head poking out, resting on my pillow. Like a human.
“No good?” I yawned.
Thoughtful Man looked at me. “You’re the one that fell asleep, you tell me,” he drawled.
I lent over and plucked a rollie from the box of home-mades on the bed. “At least you managed to stay awake,” I said lighting it.
“My eyelids did flutter for a bit,” he said turning his attention back to the tv. “But you and Poppy kept me awake. The boys are bathed and in bed, by the way.”
I kissed the top of his head, picked up my iPad and clocked the time. Still earlyish; I started idling through my emails.
“Ooh, ‘Young Ones’!” Thoughtful Man cried out and stopped clicking the remote. He faced me again, this time with screwed up his eyes, “I know this one… first season, last episode. ‘Flood’.”
Even though we’d caught the programme near the end, he still got it. And so we watched the seminal comedy of our youth, and oh how I LOLled…
*Hall Ran? LOL, Clicky… That’s from ‘Love and Monsters‘ first broadcast on Saturday 17th June 2006, watched by 6,66 million viewers…*
Last night I reread… looked over… and then tweeted out an old post of my good friend Legs Eleven…
From the Old Lady of Threadneedle street – the UK has a brand new fiver. It’s still blue 😉 Thoughtful Man got one last night whilst out working, and showed it to me this morning. It’s shiny and can survive a battering…
*What? …/innocent face*
Mrs Reign one side, smoker Winnie on t’other… see-through window…
*Saturn 5… I guess Big Ben does look a bit like a rocket, Clicky…*
‘I PROMISE TO PAY THE BEARER ON DEMAND THE SUM OF FIVE POUNDS’
*/shows empty hands… Clicky, you’re on your own for this one…*
*Knot a waffle man then, Clicky? …/arches eyebrow…*
*Clicky, you realise ‘toast‘ – ‘to brown with heat’ derives from ‘terrain’ – ‘piece of earth’?*
*/rolls eyes…*
*/stretch… Last one… I’ve passed tense now, Clicky… we’ll get this out before the end of Saturday…*
*I suppose with bad comes good and with good comes bad, Clicky… we just have to make the best of it… /shrugs… *
*Really?! Oh for fucks sake, Clicky, couldn’t you get a better Song?*
*Much better… /blows kiss…*
Library of Libraries 