Kimberley Anne Better Better Willis I was born. That went well. Not long after, I was walking and talking and stamping and shouting and making my mark on the world. I discovered Mum's typewriter when I was about eight years old and have been fascinated by words and sentences ever since. I continue to stamp and shout, but now with added 'I might blog about this later' notemaking.
“There are two types of people I hate …. racists and Norwegians.”
Lucky old me, I know lots of clever writers. Each month, a new Guest Writer will grace us with their wit and warmth. Click here to read their words.
Every now and then, I finish a book. It takes a lot of Not Falling Asleep. I currently highly recommend Lee Mack’s Mack the Life.
A blog roll of other sites I know and love and wish I’d thought of.
Stimuli // stimuli plural of stim·u·lus (Noun)
I borrowed from a friend a Spike Milligan book of kid’s poems in order to entertain my sister during a recent weekend. Turns out I was the most entertained – the man is a genius! This is my favourite poem.
‘Twas midnight in the schoolroom
And every desk was shut
When suddenly from the alphabet
Was heard a loud “Tut-Tut!”
Said A to B, “I don’t like C;
His manners are a lack.
For all I ever see of C
Is a semi-circular back!”
“I disagree,” said D to B,
“I’ve never found C so.
From where I stand he seems to be
An uncompleted O.”
C was vexed, “I’m much perplexed,
You criticise my shape.
I’m made like that, to help spell Cat
And Cow and Cool and Cape.”
“He’s right” said E; said F, “Whoopee!”
Said G, “‘Ip, ‘Ip, ‘ooray!”
“You’re dropping me,” roared H to G.
“Don’t do it please I pray.”
“Out of my way,” LL said to K.
“I’ll make poor I look ILL.”
To stop this stunt J stood in front,
And presto! ILL was JILL.
“U know,” said V, “that W
Is twice the age of me.
For as a Roman V is five
I’m half as young as he.”
X and Y yawned sleepily,
“Look at the time!” they said.
“Let’s all get off to beddy byes.”
They did, then “Z-z-z.”
Love This Woman
An ace chart of what to eat when. For more details, check out Eat Seasonably.
How Animals Eat Their Food.
Wrinkly Fingers. Why?
Aside from a built-in timer to get out of the bathtub, the ability for hands and feet to wrinkle after prolonged exposure to water may confer additional (and much more useful) evolutionary advantage.
Research suggests that wrinkled palmar and plantar surfaces act as “tire treads” and allow for heightened grip in wet environments.
Very interesting. Read more at the Evolution Facebook page.
Louis C.K. on smoking pot.
Age is just a number
Shared by I f***king love Science.
The similarity is striking – and unsurprising, as they share 95-99% of their DNA.
Think. Do. Grow.
“Develop a passion for learning. If you do, you will never cease to grow” ~ Anthony J. D’Angelo
Simple things make me chuckle. Thank you The Beauty of Science and Reality.
The Double Life
How very simple life would be
And that’s just where the trouble lies;
But shackled to that Restless Me
With puttering and garden things
And dreaming while a cricket sings
And all the while the Restless One
Insists on more exciting fun,
It wants to go with every tide,
No matter where…just for the ride.
Like yowling cats the two selves brawl
Until I have no peace at all.
One eye turns to the forward track,
The other eye looks sadly back.
I’m getting wall-eyed from the strain,
(It’s tough to have an idle brain)
But One says “Stay” and One says “Go”
And One says “Yes,” and One says “No,”
And One Self wants a home and wife
And One Self craves the drifter’s life.
The Restless Fellow always wins
I wish my folks had made me twins.
By Don Blanding (November 7, 1894 – June 9, 1957)
Caddisfly larvae build protective cases using materials found in their environment. Artist Hubert Duprat supplied them with gold leaf and precious stones. This is what they created.
I rely on you.
Reading Lee Mack’s autobiography at the moment, in which he recommends the works of Hovis Presley. I can’t afford Hovis Presley’s book, currently £60 on Amazon. But I did find this poem online. It’s good.
I rely on you
like a Skoda needs suspension
like the aged need a pension
like a trampoline needs tension
like a bungee jump needs apprehension
I rely on you
like a camera needs a shutter
like a gambler needs a flutter
like a golfer needs a putter
like a buttered scone involves some butter
I rely on you
like an acrobat needs ice cool nerve
like a hairpin needs a drastic curve
like an HGV needs endless derv
like an outside left needs a body swerve
I rely on you
like a handyman needs pliers
like an auctioneer needs buyers
like a laundromat needs driers
like The Good Life needed Richard Briers
I rely on you
like a water vole needs water
like a brick outhouse needs mortar
like a lemming to the slaughter
Ryan’s just Ryan without his daughter
I rely on you
© H Presley 1994
Who needs drums?
Seeing as I’ve just been banging on about boobies over on the main blog page, how about some boobies here on Stimuli?
Meet the blue footed booby, found from the Gulf of California down along the western coasts of Central and South America to Peru.
Their bright blue feet are a sexually selected trait. The brighter a males feet, the more attractive he is to a female. To attract a female, they have an elaborate dancing ritual to display their feet, first lifting one foot and then the other.
All credit to the good people at I f***ing love Science on Facebook. They do find some great shizzle.
The Lunacy of Ink was born on Valentine's Day 2008... a gift from a suitor who liked my writing and wanted to give me a platform from which to flourish. So I married him. It's mostly a reportage style open diary.... of what I do and wish I didn't when drunk. And sober. With a bit of current affairs thrown in, whenever I feel I have something new to say about Kate Middleton.
Something has been troubling me since I became someone’s wife. For 30 years, I ticked the ‘miss’ box without any thought. For eight months, which is how long I’ve been married, congratulations to me, I have had to hover over the boxes, unsure what to do with myself. I am not a Mrs Jones, because I have not taken the lucky man’s name, and I’m certainly not Mrs Willis, because that is my mum’s title. I am not a Miss, because apparently you can’t be a Miss married. And I take umbrage to Ms, because it’s a bit pernickety.
But I wasn’t always this way. I used to like loads of hippy shit. I spent £1 buying 2p once, because I was told the two pence piece had special properties that would prevent my mobile phone giving me cancer. I had my tarot cards read, got pricked with acupuncture needles when I hurt my back and dragged my husband to a palm reader very early on in our relationship when he was still polite enough to let me. Continue reading
Remember a few weeks ago how I waved goodbye to my campervan? That was fun. Since then, I’ve been trying to welcome a new vehicle into my life. But thanks to my unenviable ability to insult every car dealer I’ve tried to buy a car from, it proved harder than I thought.
Growing up, there was, of course, the likes of Monopoly (too long) and Downfall (nostalgic, but really, where are the laughs? And not strictly a board game.)
When we bought Eddie, our campervan, we had big ideas. We were buying into a lifestyle.
Oh hi there beautiful people. With your sharp suits and focused faces. What’s that sign you’re holding up really far away? Well, I can tell you now, because I survived my surgery and now have perfect vision.
Eyes. They are the window to the soul, aren’t they?
Well, mine aren’t. Mine are broken.
My dear mother passed on her crap-eye genes to all three of her daughters. Two in a ‘funny ha-ha’ kind of blind way where we scrabble about for our glasses in the morning and make ourselves 87% better looking through the wearing of contact lenses. And one in an actually blind, it’s not funny at all kind of way. My brother, the lucky bugger, has eyes like a hawk.
Oh hi champs.
This week, I’ve gone wandering across the great plains of the world wide web and decided to scribble my thoughts on a different world wide website.
In short, I’m guest writing over at Six out of Ten, a new lifestyle magazine curated by Laura Demetriou. You can tweet Laura (and tell her how great her guest writer is) at this handle: @sixoutoftenmag
So hop on over to Six out of Ten and you’ll find me dissecting celebrity culture in my usual ground-breaking and Pulitzer prize-worthy way, just like I do here.
You can click this link to go straight to my feature.
Until next week, ta-ta for now!