greygirlbeast (greygirlbeast) wrote,

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Big Book of Blah

How the frell can February be half over? Sheesh.

I've been wasting time dithering over whether or not to explain what I was going on about yesterday, the Grand Disappointment. I even wrote two paragraphs containing said explanation. But now I think it's best just to let it go. As Dorothy Gale was fond of saying, "It can't be helped now." Or as Samwise Gamgee was fond of saying, "There's nothing else for it." Move along. Don't dwell on the disappointments, but do what has to be done. Work harder to avoid future disappointments. Discretion is the better part of valour. Don't be an asshole. And so forth. Frell it.

Turn the page.

I think I have a title for the erotica volume. I think I shall call it Frog Toes and Tentacles, because a) it seems appropriate, b) Spooky thinks frog toes are sexy, and c) it sounds like the title to a book of Stephen Jay Gould essays. It's also better than the title Spooky suggested a few nights ago — The Best Little Whorehouse in Innsmouth.

Today, I go back to the absinthe bottle and back to Chapter Three and Sadie Jasper.

Too mopey and distracted to do much else with yesterday, we went back to Fernbank for another look at the frog exhibit. So, the afternoon was filled with the peeping and croaking of a couple dozen species of frogs and toads. My favorites, I think, are the Golden Mantella Frog (Mantella aurantiaca; Madagascar), incredibly tiny and bright yellow, and the Waxy Monkey Frog (Phyllomedusa sauvagii; South America), which lacks sticky toepads but has opposable thumbs (hence the name). Here's a photo of the latter:

We also saw the Imax film about bugs, which was very good and has introduced me to Burl Ives' delightful "The Ugly Bug Ball."

The Marvel project is still on, by the way. There was a long delay due to contract negotiations, but that seems to be winding up. Details TBA.

"Cheer-up,-old-boy,-I'll-pull-you-through" look, which was all whales. So, call him the Hyena Whale, if you please. His voracity is well known and from the circumstance that the inner angles of his lips are curved upwards, he carries an everlasting Mephistophelean grin on his face. This whale averages some sixteen or eighteen feet in length.

I have no idea what any of that means. It arrived at my old AOL address a couple of days ago. It may be code, trying to awaken my conscious mind to the Matrix, and it may have only been a misdirected e-mail. But it was so marveously weird, I thought I'd share.

No problems with the guiche. It hurts, but that's what it's supposed to be doing at this point.

Last night, I finished both the Blackwood biography and The Lost Dinosaurs of Egypt. I strongly reccommend the latter for anyone with an interest in the exciting new dinosaur finds coming out of Africa. Oh, how this book made me miss field work! Reading about the work at the Bahariya Oasis and Gebel el Dist, about the discovery of the enormous titanosaur Paralititan stromeri, the puzzling-out that the Cenomanian-aged sediments of the oasis had once been a mangrove swamp at the edge of the Tethys Sea — wonderful stuff. Much better than all this writing bollocks.

Leh'agvoi has finished the second page of the winter manga special thingy. It's looking good.

And I have prattled on for much too long. Time to speak with the Fairy.

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