Conrad. Tough As They Come

There Was This Spider, You See ...
     Not sure where the little blighter came from, it wasn't on the wall when I went for a shower.  When I came back, sans glasses, I detected a dark mobile spot on the wall.
     "I bet it's a spider," I grumbled.  Glasses on, yes, a hefty-looking individual crawling slothfully up the wall.

A Forensic Reconstruction.
Okay, it wasn't quite this big.

     Conrad did not slap it to pulp with his shoe (they're big shoes, you can stun small animals or children with them*) not did he jig around in hysterical arachnophobic horror.  He left the visitor alone and by end of shift it had vanished again, hunting the flies that have appeared thanks to better weather.

Rik Mayall
     Conrad was saddened to hear of the death of Rik yesterday.  Not that old at 56.  No, there won't be any quotations, but Conrad would like to say that he lived in student squalor at the time when "The Young Ones" was broadcast that made their domicile look like Buckingham Palace by comparison.

A Young One.  No, wait -

Shakespeare Would Have Been In Trouble -
     If he lived in the present day.  Not for any reason of technology or intellect or not being able to erect a deckchair, but because of the weather.  Take a look at one of his sonnets, and imagine the ardent swain reciting it to his love on the balcony above:

"Do I make you horny?" did not make it past Mr Shakespeares first draft. Also, it was a bit short

   Amorous Suitor: Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
   The Lady In Question: What!  Are you calling me grey, depressing and wet?
   Amorous Suitor: I was trying to flatter -
   The Lady In Question: Did you just call me "fatter"! (empties chamber-pot over balcony)
   Amorous Suitor:  You cow!  That were my best doublet and hose!
   The Lady In Question: How dare you call me a "ho"! (throws chamber pot)
    Amorous Suitor:  I'm off to romance Gladys.  At least she stands at the door. Less risky.

     You see?  The young lovers thrown apart, thanks to the weather.  Which today has been very disconcerting.

Sugar plums

John William Waterhouse
     As you know, BOOJUM! really avoids politics and current affairs, so you can rest assured that Mr Waterhouse is not a politician enmeshed in seedy scandal, nor a football manager caught making staggeringly incorrect statements at a party.
     No, Mr Waterhouse crops up as a Victorian artists in the Bryant & May novel "The Seventy-Seven Clocks", and Conrad wondered if he was real.  Not knowing anything about the pre-Raphaelites, who sound like a forgotten tribe of Israel but were actually a school of painters.
     Anyway, Mr Waterhouse does exist - or existed.  He was a real artist, and here is the painting mentioned in the novel, "The Favourites of Emperor Honorius":

Men and birds, eh?

Nasturtium
     Here's a picture of some.
     Why?
     Why not!  Because I can, and because they're bright and breezy.

The "nose-twister" in the wild.  yes, that's the translation of "nasturtium"

O Noes!
     Well, tonight Sally (Darling Daughter) and I polished off the date-expired chicken goujons, and the date-expired spring rolls, and I had the date-expired Steak Slice and the date-expired Ham & Cheese Slice.
     Net upshot - all the date-expired stuff is now gone, so we are reduced to eating fresh food that's not out of date - O what will become of us!
     At least last week's French loaf has gone stale.

Finally
     This one's for Anna -

Teh doggeh is cute, teh mens is all brute

     I didn't know Kate had an alternative career in death metal.  Well, you live and learn.

* Metaphorically only!


Pip Pip!