Many moons ago when The Tideliar was but a small hatchling, the Birth-Dragon decided He needed a sibling. And Lo it came to pass, via some nefarious mechanism involving storks, pints of beer and a cabbage patch, The Beasel was introduced to this World. The Tideliar and The Beasel, although at first unsure of each other have become firm friends, and Tideliar was fortunate enough to act as Best Man at "The Wedding of The Beasel", a great event held with much fanfare some years ago. Which event also provided The Tideliar with his last trip back to The Land Far Away.
The Beasel is currently off work with a bad back, in fact has been off work for several months due to the shocking ineptness of the Heath 'Care' System. Quoth The Beasel unto The Tideliar a few days ago, "Oi, fuckface, tell me more about this 'blogging' of which you do." So instructions were sent, and suddenly there is a fresh and shiny new blogger on the block.
Go and enjoy A Pondering Beasel, and perhaps, if you feel his musings and ponderings warrant such, leave him a message of support. For although he is but a n00b in the interchoobs, he already knows the bug of blogging and recognition. Also, he is fucking funnier than a crippled child sliding down a banister rail into a poorly placed newlpost. I think he's shaping up to be a fairly prolific writer and he already has a good voice for a yarn.
Felix and the Freikorps
1 week ago
6 comments:
Tell him there's probably a job going at scienceblogs for people who can't write about science.
-antipodean
I love watching crippled children slide on stuff, way funnier than drunk animals... and I know all about science: To make them slide you need low friction between cripple and surface and a sturdy kick.
That's true Beasel. Kids + booze + cobblestones and a squirt gun of olive oil. Not just a kinky perversion!
cobblestones are rubbish unless you've had an inch of rain and then a quick freeze.
I will also be requiring a park bench from which to witness the festivities and a paperbag with booze in it.
-antipodean
Good call mate, I'll join you on the bench with the brown bag.
While you're down there can you tell that bastard Springsteen to stop singing Walking in Memphis in my head?
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