Month: July 2019

Superior Low Life

New Gusanito. Indeed there’s no such thing as too many of those. That’s what I think, anyway. And when you think about the slimy, slithery, venomous, scary vermin currently populating 10, Downing St. and Whitehall and Parliament, you’ll have to agree with me. My worms are cute, wise, pleasant to know and very good for your mental health. Have a spiffing week and don’t fret too much; it’ll all come out in the wash, sooner or later, when the wee worms and the tardigrades and the rats inherit the Earth. Love and whizzes.
And here’s a little bit of day music to help you through the week.

Good (Blue) Blood

Veggie Queen. There. This is the only kind of royalty we’ll ever welcome ’round here. And if you think she looks too fruity, think of Boris Bleeding Johnson’s brand new cabinet. They don’t come much nuttier, they don’t. Also dangerous. Priti Patel (she of the covert Israeli army money-funnelling shenanigans, “migrants are to blame for the NHSD crisis. and “bring back hanging.) as Home Secretary? Bumba help us all!

Dangerous Liaisons

There’ll Be Tears. Some more sound advice and tips from Adelita, my cheery, well-informed, incisive and upright demonette.
For any Latinists out there, here’s the quotation in, well, Latin.
Efficiut Daemones, ut quae non sunt, sic tamen quasi sint, conspicienda hominibus exhibeant.
And for any stray Lovecraftians, a true morsel from that most excellent book, the Kitab Al-Azif, aka the Necronomicon. 
Cursed the ground where dead thoughts live new and oddly bodied, and evil the mind that is held by no head. ! For it is of old rumour that the soul of the devil-bought hastes not from his charnel clay, but fats and instructs the very worm that gnaws; till out of corruption horrid life springs, and the dull scavengers of earth wax crafty to vex it and swell monstrous to plague it. Great holes secretly are digged where earth’s pores ought to suffice, and things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl.
This whole jumble of pop wisdom comes straight out of H.P. Lovecraft’s The Festival. I “dedicate. it to the mindless clowns currently trying to construct another Gulf of Tonkin Incident only this time in the Strait of Ormuz. Make of it what you will and have a grand weekend.

Wise Counsel

Sound Strategy. Just a little piece of his outrageous nibs’ mind  with a dash of strategic advice. Sounds like an excellent plan to me. Stay cool, groove on and have a spiffing weekend.

Sea She-Wolves

Captain Fizz. Here is another little bit of that HMCA (Heavily Modified Clip Art) I love so much, plus an original wee worm. A darling Beluga and mates. One can never have too many Belugas, that’s what I think. This one is for Captain Carola Rakete, a sea she-wolf with more balls than many of her male counterparts. And for Judge Alessandra Vella, the woman who got her out of jail and validated her defiance. Here’s to you girls! May your kind multiply and tell the bastards what’s what.

Curly-Wurly Dialectics

Impasse. aka Dialectic Cul-de-Sac. Or as the Spaniards would say, un diálogo de sordos, o de besugos, a dialogue of the deaf. Or between two idiots. In Spanish besugo, sea bream, is one of the many synonyms of idiot; don’t ask me why for as far as I know sea bream aren’t particularly dumb. Here’s a picture of one. I think it looks rather cute and perhaps a tad pissed off .“owing to its deleterious reputation, no doubt.
But I digress. What I wanted to say is that 99.9% of the political so-called discourse, these days, seems to run along the lines of a dialogue between a couple of particularly deaf and obdurate sea bream. That’s all. Have a nice rest of the week and a spiffing weekend.
Have another young angry sea bream. Por mucho pan!
NT. The “Garabatum. of the Cod Latin title stands for garabatos, doodles in Spanish.