I Forsake To Bake

Not Really A Big Issue -
 - not if you care to look at the horror story that is the news today, for comparison.  Significant at the Mansion, however, as baking occupies a lot of time and the Friday morning ganterpies are in competition with both the Pub Quiz - with a nine o'clock window - and the blog, which is allowed up to an hour to churn forth from Conrad's fertile, creative, and definitely unique mind.  

Well what if I was?  How would you know? Eh?

Today I sit down to type at just after seven p.m. meaning posting by about eight, and there's simply not enough time to make anything with only an hour to go.  And no, you can't trust Wonder Wifey to check on whether it's baked or not nor when to turn it round and if it needs tenting or not; I remember leaving a pizza in her tender care and returning to a circle of carbon.
     So!  No cakes tomorrow.  If they are lucky Anna will provide chocolate for them, as she is a woman of her word, although don't expect Conrad to eat the horrid stuff.

Cut It Out Conrad
As you surely know by now, one of my salient features is a dislike of wasting food.  To this end I took a lemon to work today, as a couple of others in the bag had been thrown out when they went green.  Green is not a good look for a lemon.
     Anyway, I made myself a new friend today -

Looks a bit of a simpleton

     And do you know what I did with Smiley?
     Cut him in two and squeezed the juice out of his lifeless body!
     Then I added the cloudy lemonade you see in the background.  

"Black Mass"
The current film de jour, I believe, featuring Johnny Depp as a thoroughgoing rapscallion.  Odd, I expected it to be about the worship practices of First Bus staff.
     Be that as it may, Conrad has done an hilarious skit on the title.  Viz:

There you go.  Hilarious

     The hilarity does not end there.  Oh no.  Not at all.  Have at -

"Black Mess"

Scribbled wibble

     Can your intercostal muscles cope with the sheer amusement?  For there is -

"Black Moss"

Chinese food?  Egad!

"Black Miss"

Nina Simone.  More awesome than a bucket of boiling brilliance

     I think I'll stop whilst I'm ahead.

Today's Coincidence Part One!
One of two.  Yes, there I was, listening to The Mars Volta's "The Bedlam In Goliath" and what did I hear the singer sing?

     "A mass of blackened scrapes begins"

     In common with all their songs I have no idea what he's singing about, but you have to admit that's a little uncanny.

Today's Coincidence Part Two!
Indeed.  Conrad is currently reading an autobiography "Salute of Guns" about a gunnery officer during the First Unpleasantness.  Let me illustrate my point:

See?  Not just the ravings of an unsound mind.

     As you already know, I hope, since you have been assiduously reading this blog for many years now, Conrad hilariously - that very apt word again - declines to admit that "America" exists.  Instead there is "Canada" and there is "South Canada".
     Visible above, this other Conrad declines to admit that "Canada" exists, instead there is "America" and "North British America".
     It's an inversion, admittedly, yet - well, I have to say DON'T SNEAK UP ON ME LIKE THAT DAMMIT!

'Sokay, Guvnah, I'm Only Warming It For Ya
One of Jenny the cat's most persistent practices is getting where she shouldn't be.  I tolerate her lying around in the Upstair Lair as generally she lies on the bed and doesn't stir, before she gets carried off to the kitchen last thing at night.  She has, on occasion, managed to hide in the bedroom and only emerge after dark, purring loudly at how clever she's been.  The decision then is - do I try to doze off again and risk her sitting on my face, or do I get out of Nice Warm Comfy Bed to cart her off downstairs?

     Ah, decisions, decisions.

This Man Speaks The Truth
As a parent, it's always the most worrying time when the kids are small and silent.  Normally you can hear them breaking toys, chasing the cat or putting their Pocket Atomic Pile back in working order.  However - 

     Fear does stalk the night when you realise the house has been silent for nearly twenty minutes and there's a strange chemical smell coming from upstairs ...

Simon And His Uncouth Tooth
Please regard this:

Peanut butter

     Conrad likes this on crumpets, and at times when there's no sliced cooked animal to put on a lunchtime sandwich, he uses this instead.  Fine.  Acceptable.  
     What was Simon doing this afternoon?  Eating it off a spoon out of the jar!
     I feel this is the root cause of 90% of the trouble in this country today, and I told him off, because the next thing will be passing the port on the left, and women will get the vote and some damn fool will invent Reality Television.


Well, once again time conspires against us, Vulnavia.  Still, I will get to write down what I've made notes about, just you see if I don't!