inky stars (or, you were right about the stars, each one is a setting sun)

so, i just threw a tissue at the bin, but it flew nowhere near the bin, and actually just hit a soft monkey hanging from the bookshelf and landed in a rack of holiday brochures.

urgh. got the cold and the sore throat, need the drugs. i've got some bitch-ass lemsip. it tastes amazing for the first couple of sips. and then it tastes like the repetative chewing of soft, semi-liquid tinfoil. so, ups and downs with that one.

there are two things that i want to illustrate right now, and luckily enough, there are a couple of kelly vivanco paintings that are perfect for the job.

number one:








i have heard that some starfish can live forever!










number two:

i want to get an ink well and a good inking pen.



i don't know if it's the same with you as it is for me (wouldn't that be nice?), but i prefer the fact from 'number one' and the picture from 'number two'...however, neither would be as good without the other half. it's like a banana - a banana has to have two halves, otherwise you would just say "i don't think i'm going to eat that...it has gone brown where the naked flesh has been exposed to the air and, besides, where did the other half go? i don't want to be caught up in some kind of power struggle against the original owner of this banana, we may end up making a big hole in the middle of the street, or breaking the lamppost."

also it would only be 'bana' or 'na' without it's other half. and that just looks silly.

i got it in! i got it in that time - the tissue into the bin, cushioning off two walls, "flum, flum, rest".

the lemsip is at the tinfoil stage right now. nothing a good night's sleep can't handle - if only i could get one of those! the mirth of my sinuses. sinuses? sinus? sirius?

Michael Zapruder's Rain of Frogs - Butterfield's and Baker's

i don't know why there's apostrophes on the end of of butterfield and baker, but that's what they are on the file. maybe they're shops? or owners of houses? i'm not going to argue with mr. zapruder - he's got a fucking rain of frogs! i don't want to have to scoop a gaggle of lightly charred, convolsing amphibians out of my gutters. no sir.

there's something very intelligent about this song, although i have no idea what it is. in fact, i know next to nothing about either the song (i only catch a few lyrics at the time) or the artist. i did a quick google on rain of frogs..and to cut a short story almost to decimalic levels: aside from the whole bible plague stuff, i came across an article on the new scientist website entitled 'Return to Paradise - If the people flee, what will happen to the seemingly indestructible?'. this is a question i want asked more frequently, and with arms flailing; possibly with hands in claw-like shapes, reaching towards the sky as if to pull it down around like a blanket, or to kneel on it and steal its lunch money. maybe in a wickerman pose, but with a perfectly pressed creme suit, or a super mario costume.
alas, i can provide you with no answers, mr mario, for i would have to pay to read the entire article rather than just the seemingly unrelated opening paragraph.

anyway, it slightly reminds me of the eels, if they lost themselves in a firefly lagoon, and their instruments became trees and vines. and were helped out by turtles!

*sneeze*

ok, i'm going to have to go and look up the place the mean lady lives in the rescuers - it's nibbling at the back of my brain. just above where it connects with the spine. turtles are nibbling there!

enjoy the song, and ms. vivanco's art. check out her comic, too - there's a good shirt there.

hope, away!