Bible, Captain and Jack

Nothing To Do With A Manga Series -
"What can Conrad mean this time?" I hear you quibble.  Also, "It's surely too early to have been at the cooking sherry?"
     "Black" is the answer - Bible black, Captain Black and Jack Black.
     Actually be careful if you Google "Bible Black", as this brings up a Japanese Hentai which is most definitely NOT S.F.W.  Instead try "Starless and Bible Black".
     I did think this would be a quick and easy Intro, but now find I've got to explicate myself, as what I think makes sense to me, but not - obviously! - to anyone else.
     "Starless and bible-black" - a line from that Welsh poet extraordinaire Dylan Thomas, who is probably one of the only people who could get away with being called Dylan* and still be cool with it.  From "Under Milk Wood".

Dylan.  Telling it like it is

     Captain Black - you gotta wonder, with a name like that, was he always ever destined to be the Big Baddy?

Note the sunken eyes and stubble.
Clearly this guy plays too many computer games!

     Of course that's the classic Supermarionation version, there is a CGI alternative -

More messianic than Mysteron, one feels.

     Jack Black - together with Kyle Gass, one half of Tenacious D.  Kyle may look like Bank Manager Man, but he's a top musician.  Jack also earns kudos for recording and explaining the musical creative process as being long on perspiration and little on creativity - to paraphrase, you might throw musical ideas around all afternoon and come up with five seconds of workable material.
     Oh, he's also in films and things.

Jack and Kyle.  Superglue accident, apparently.

Okay.  That's the Intro over, and we have probably sent the Hamsterminator Internet Scrutineers into orbital overload with that lot.
     On with the notley!

A Short Photo-essay About Life At The Mansion
Now are indeed torrid times at the Mansion, as the sun and rain combined mean the minefields need extremely careful pruning - that grass insists on growing.  Also, the barbed wire gets hidden under new growth, meaning that Postie occasionally finds himself trapped in the midst of triple dannert wire.  Stop whining, Postie - it's not like it's electrified!
     Anyway.  I took the photos so you are most certainly going to have to look at them.

     Cake

Orange and Almond and Yoghurt - Loaf

     I know, I know, it calls itself a loaf, yet it is most unarguably a cake.  Gluten-free, with a very nice crumb to it, which doesn't always happen; some gluten-free recipes bake well but collapse when cooled - not so for this baby.  Since it wasn't all finished I may offer some to those present Monday who missed out on Friday**.  A Hummingbird Bakery recipe, meaning a little bit more faff than normal recipes, yet a very nice outcome.
     Monster!  I had to get a picture of this, as Wonder Wifey chuckled with both alarm and delight when she realised what serendipity had created:

Monster above, skull below

     I know she's creative, but - really!
     Conrad The Comfy Cushion - and here you see one of the major functions of your humble scribe when Wonder Wifey and/or Degsy are not around -

     Of course Edna can only adopt this position if Conrad is not scribbling away on an A4 pad with a book in the other hand, and she has been cheeky enough on occasion to head-butt these offending articles, indicating that she wants to climb aboard.
     The Silent Sentry - a choice position for keeping an eye on both bus and private motor vehicle traffic.

Edna Wunderhund, wundering

     If any of the Mansion staff happen to get off the bus, or the Murder Mobile turns into Tandle Hill Road, the "silent" part goes out the window as Edna barks her lungs out.
     My New Best Friend Forever - I believe the principle here is "Random Reinforcement Ratio" as Edna hangs around the Upstairs Lair to see if there are any interesting morsels on the floor, about to be on the floor or up on high that she can just reach with a bit of a stretch.

Edna, working the "See me the soulful underfed puppy" look

The Pen Is Mightier Than The Sword - Certainly if you want to write a bit of deathless prose, as even a quill pen tends to tear up the paper - can you imagine what a sword dipped in Black Quink would do to a sheet of A4 feint-ruled?

The reason there is a pen shortage in the UK

     Anyway, here we are with my 30 pens.  Not counting the two attached to Notebook and Diary.  Oh, and the three clipped into my t-shirt neck.  Plus the four in my pencil-case.  And another four at work.  Plus I think there's another one under the bed and another behind the wardrobe.  Also <Mister Hand intervenes to admit that Conrad has, potentially, an infinite number of pens>
The Horror Of Pineapple  If you read the blog on a regular basis, you will realise that Conrad hates, HATES, HATES Pineapple above all other things in this world

A picture of poison

     I would much rather eat a plate of Stinking Corpse Lily than a single segment of pineapple, that's how much I hate it.  I mention this because I got a bottle of Don Simon as above, and Wonder Wifey won't touch it.  I was going to dispose of it with lazy tong scissors and a nose-peg when noble Degsy stepped in to take care of it.

Blimey, that's us at nearly 1000 words. I've already been busy typing away at my "Eden Underwood" story; thanks to rehearsing this in my head for the past few days I dashed off 1200 words with no trouble, and add to this total the 800-odd from earlier this afternoon - Conrad = Highly Productive.
     The quality is another matter, I admit ...



*

"Hey, man!  I kinda object to that."

** Okay, okay - Anna.  And maybe Sophie too.