1. The landlord informs us he would rather our chickens didn’t grace his premises with their presence. I cannot in fairness blame him, as things that have been graced with the chickens’ presence tend to require a lot of hot water afterwards. And it wouldn’t have been a problem, as my chicken-loving and benevolent mother had agreed to take them on. Unfortunately, the master of the house vetoed them. He has a Thing about chickens; attacked by one in ‘Nam, possibly. So. Anyone want two decorative but highly useless chickens and a none-too-resplendent hutch? They have started laying again, but only at a rather pitiful freelance rate.
2. Still enjoying the X-Files, but now we’ve cut back on night-time sci-fi watching a flaw in the show becomes apparent. Not written for dinnertime viewing. Every night I tenderly construct a nutritious, tasty meal… well, OK, last night we had wedges, but they were homemade and fried in chicken fat, so it wasn’t a dead loss… anyway, a meal of some description… and just as I am lifting a pleasing forkful to my lips I see Scully flashing a torch about and saying “Mulder” in a very calm voice. And sure enough, I chomp down on the sight of somebody’s severed head. Or a being which could be an alien-human hybrid, a genetic mutation or a being of supernatural origin - we don’t know, but we do know it has suppurating flesh and is eating its own forearm. Or a goat that has decomposed with preternatural rapidity after being exposed to John Travolta. Whatever. Nasty stuff. If this keeps up I shall become immensely slender. And yes, the episode with the chicken processing plant and the ritual cannibalism has so far been the worst, but we’re only on Season 4.
3. We have no money. Which is a bit of a pesk.
4. Last time I hennaed my hair I missed a patch of roots nor- nor- west on my crown, so now when I wear certain hairstyles it looks like I have been afflicted with some sort of localised fungus. ‘Spose I could go with it and call it funguspunk, though. I might do that. Hennaing is a pain.
5. I cannot for the life of me work out how old Dana Scully is meant to be. Anyone know? Season 4? She could be anywhere from 25 to 50.
Kovac Says:
Miriam Says: