If Not For Vincent...

...where would we all be?

Well, we wouldn't know each other for a start. And we would still think that the true essence of masculinity had not yet been born.

I printed so many Vincent pictures...

...I ran out of kitties.

Thanks to Lolcats.

Bright Bobby

Bobby just shows so much neck in this, I have to chew my wrist 'cos I can't nibble his neck.

While you're in the pharmacy, Bobby...

...please get some prophylactics...



...and you can investigate my tubes with those big hands and your huge pipe :)

Forgive Me Father...

...for I have sinful thoughts of you.



The Dangerous Lives Of Altar Boys is on Film4 next Thursday night/early Friday morning at 12.35am.

Happy sinning, UK Vixens.

And thanks to Eliza for the pictures (I haven't capped this one yet).

Lesson in Chinese

Bobby at his most delicious tells it like it is.

If they changed the camera angle, the Vixens would get quite a treat.


Who wants to flatten that little curl? Form a queue, ladies.


I live a hand to mouth existence.


It's so long I can sling it over my shoulder.

Maybe I could find Val a gift here.



Wow, there she is at the window. Gotta have her.

This is how you write "I love Val" in Chinese.



But does she love me back? (Silly question!)


She does? Great news!
I'm practising making magic with my left hand.



I wonder if I can do it with my right hand, too?

Now I'll try with both hands.


Did you enjoy that, Val?


How about if I use these full and luscious lips to kiss you?


Eames, do you think anyone will notice where I'm pointing with my thumb?


I have to raise my knee to hide my stiify.



Hey, Val, what are you doing down there?

You have to get out from under the table now and let me do my work.



Stop it, it tickles.

If I stay in this corner, maybe no-one will notice my groin.

Two fingers are better than one.



And a bit of tongue is best of all.


I'm going to do my mean and moody look.


Do my biceps look big in this?

Power to my elbow

Every year I have the same problem with my energy supplier. They say I owe them money and must increase my monthly payment. They then try to gouge me for far too much. I phone up, I complain that I think my gas meter is running fast, they have a look and say it looks OK, I negotiate them down to a reasonable increase.

Not this year. I pay £44 a month for gas and electricity, the bulk of it for gas. I owed £214.94 "overage" for the year. They wanted to increase my payments to £79 - almost double. The clever woman on the phone infomed me that prices had gone up. Had they doubled? I asked. I knew the answer was no. If I paid off the amount due, then I could increase my payment to only £65 a month. That's almost 50% more, I said. Have prices gone up by 50%? It's only 12-and-a-half percent, she said. ????? Then, despite my assuring her that I only had a combi boiler running on gas, she informed me that my usage may have increased. In a mild winter when I was having hot flushes left right and centre? I don't think so. I gave her a chance to treat me as if I had a brain, or I would switch suppliers. She remained silent. I hung up and phoned another supplier. I switched on the spot. I'll be paying £50 a month with a chance to review it in 6 months. I know it will have to go up, but at least they listened to me and didn't try to blind me with false statistics on a day when I had been teaching MATHS!

I Present My Thesis

And it's on Anti-thesis. Some favourite scenes with no face shots of SWMNBN.

Reuse, recycle...

...but reduce - NEVER!

From a truly wonderful episode, a favourite slideshow.

Two Days Rolled Into One

Today I took my Year 8 class out. Originally we were supposed to visit the Ragged School Museum, as a follow up to their study of Oliver Twist, but the timing was such that they could squeeze in a visit to the nearby Museum of Childhood on the same day.

The kids were great, and the Victorian lesson taught in the Ragged School Museum was amazing. The actress playing the teacher dressed in front of them, explaining the items of clothing as she went. (She kept on her own clothes underneath, I hasten to add.)

She made them sit upright and still, not even allowed to scratch. They had to copy the alphabet in curlicued script on a slate board with a slate pencil. She showed how teachers were allowed not just to cane children, but to insert a board to make them straighten their backs, and bind their hands if they were too fidgety. She demonstrated the use of the Dunce's Cap.

The only problem was the appalling signposting and street signing in London. We got lost repeatedly (even with a Satnav) and turning round two large school minibuses in small London streets is no joke. Luckily I was not driving...

Fresh and Fruity

Fico di Capo, freshly capped and hot off the press.

Fig or Vincent - which would you prefer to suck?