:: some pix

Finally finally got round to downloading photos off my camera -- there were 109 of them! Just from a few weeks' noodling around, nothing special. First is from the day Andrew left Edinburgh -- I drove up to Perthshire behind him, and after a walk at the Hermitage, we had tea and cakes at a cafe in Dunkeld.


Andrew and Bertie at the Hermitage.


Bit of Americana -- no explanation for it, it was just there, deep in the woods.



The cakes! The one on the left is mainly marshmallow and cherries. The one on the right looked like a rocky road, with biscuits in it. But no -- those round things are Malteasers. They were amazingly sweet and gooey, both of them. Yum. The cafe is one of my favourites. It's run by an older couple who do everything in their own sweet time, so you have to be patient. But the food's good and the cakes! The cakes!

Another nice touch is that in the toilet, there are packets of tampons, panty liners and sanitary towels. Never seen that before in a cafe.

Finally, here are some roses from the field up the road:





Today I got the ladder out and trimmed the top of the hedge. Then I mowed the lawn. Then I weeded the front garden and hacked back the rose bush out there. Then I swept up. Then I washed the dishes. I've also had a couple of phoned conversations and walked the dog twice. I'm knackered! I'm going to have a hot bath and read my book.

:: a tidy kiwi

I'm having one of my periodic tidying fits -- long sessions with bin-bags and piles of old bills, magazines, Christmas cards, leaflets etc -- and it's boiling over into other areas. For a start today I got my gas and electricity organised so they'll be with the one supplier (ScottishPower -- take that, Scottish Gas!) and will be paid by direct debit. Phew. No more threatening letters when the bill disappears into the paper mountain. I almost cancelled Bertie's insurance because the premium shot up, but threatening to cancel brought a discount, hurrah. So he's still covered.

Next on the list is to get a grip on my website. At the moment I have four sites, would you believe it? Oh, and the blogspot. That's five. I haven't put anything on the latest one yet (it's a freebie), because I'm eyeing up another possibility. I've emailed them with a list of questions, and if their answers are good then I'm off to firefly, waving easynet goodbye. Sadly that will also mean saying goodbye to my domain name because they want £75 for letting me take it with me. Don't worry though, Hockadilly will live on elsewhere.

Footnote: I had a completely bizarre conversation with the ScottishPower woman.
"You're a long way from home!" she said perkily.
"This is my home," I replied.
"How long have you been here?"
"Thirteen years."
"Och, you've still got the accent though," she said in her strong Scottish one. "I've been here six years, myself."
"Where are you from?" I asked, startled.
"South Africa."
I marvelled at her accent, and she said when she talks to her folks back there she speaks in a South African accent.
"Your accent's is still strong, though," she said. "Where in South Africa are you from?"
"I'm a New Zealander."
"No! Really? You sound just like a South African!" This from a woman who sounded as if she was born and bred in Inverness!! It was weird.

The pet insurance lady was Indian, and I was sorely tempted to ask her if she was in India, because some of the call centres are. I don't think they're allowed to let on though.

:: hunting

Bertie's having such a great time at the moment -- there are rabbits and hedgehogs all over the place. The grass, clover and weeds in the big field up the road are nice and high, so the rabbits can't see him coming and can't speed away. The most exciting part -- from his point of view -- is that if he leaps through the grass he can literally jump on top of a rabbit. Today he did just that. The rabbit got away, of course, but he then became convinced there were more, exactly where that one had been. He was leaping along like an antelope, bounding over the grass in long flights with all his legs tucked up.

Last night it was a hedgehog: he carried it round for about ten minutes, dropping it every now and then to try and "open" it with his feet. No luck -- it stayed tightly rolled. It was a big one, not quite as big as one he caught a couple of years ago -- that was a monster -- but strong enough to survive Bertie. I'm hoping it didn't have ringworm. While he was messing with his hedgehog I came across another one hustling along the path. I rolled it away into the long grass.

We also go hunting at night. The other night he was rushing around sniffing out rabbits and I heard a twig snap in the trees. I shone the torch in that direction and sure enough, a pair of eyes lit up like lamps. A deer. It stood dazzled for a minute, then ran for it, crashing through the trees and down the bank, and landing with a barking cough before fleeing down the old railway track. Bertie was oblivious until I called him round to it had hit the footpath and he smelt it -- "hey! a deer!" No, you think so? While he was busy searching the area where the deer had been, I stumbled on a hedgehog, literally. I rolled it away into the long grass. See, I am a friend to wildlife! Bertie is such a madly inefficient hunter he mainly just gives them exercise.

:: fruity goodness

The raspberries are nearly ripe, so I threw some netting over them to keep the birds off. Mmmm, my mouth is watering ... I love raspberries. I may have to dig up the lawn and plant a raspberry forest. Chad's raspberries are already ripe, tsk. His allotment is much more open than my garden and is south-facing, so that might be it. Or it may be the high level of neglect and the overcrowding in my raspberry patch.

I planted some more beans at the weekend as well. I'd planted three previously but only one came up. It was immediately attacked by insects, so I sprayed it and it's finally grown high enough to start twining around the pole. So I should be eating my own beans sometime in December...

Pulled the first garlic at the weekend too -- but only after I'd strimmed its leaves off (a strimmer is a weedeater, kiwis). Coincidentally, I used the last of last year's garlic in a big pot of chili con carne that also featured home grown onions. Yes, indeedy, the world's most expensive onions. I planted 24 sets and so far have only harvested four onions. There are another four still struggling on, but one of them is only the size of a spring onion. It's Bertie's fault -- he trompled them down before I got around to putting up netting.

I'm going to rethink the garden layout over the winter. The vege bed isn't ideal, but the very best spot is also the very best spot for lying on with a book and a cold drink on hot, sunny days. I don't know if it's best to reposition the veges so there's a gap behind for Bertie to squeeze into for his keeping-an-eye-on-the-neighbours duties, or to build the bed up and barricade it thoroughly so he can't get in at all. At the moment the barricade makes it hard for me to get in and weed and so on, so it's a complete mess.

It needs some serious attention too: when I created the bed I used layers of newspaper to suppress weed growth. The paper was supposed to rot away like humus. Trouble is, it didn't, it's still there in thick, seedling-unfriendly wodges. So in the autumn, if I'm not going to move it, I'll need to give the whole bed a good seeing-to with the fork.

One radical idea is to cut back to just a big patch of garlic and maybe a few beans. And of course the fruit bushes. I'd like some plum trees too.

:: vroom vroom!

I got a new toy! An electric hedge trimmer. I've only got one stretch of hedge, so I've put off getting one; but clipping by hand is so hard! I end up with jelly arms. So I got a Black & Decker cheapo.

Walking Bertie this morning I told another dog-walker about my new trimmer. "Have you got a cut-out switch?" he said sternly. Apparently I need a special gizmo in case I trim through the cable, to avoid being electrocuted. The gizmo trips the fuse or something, so you don't lie there jerking and smoking and upsetting the neighbours.

But I'm way hard! I don't need no cut-off switch! Well I do, but you know, I'm into instant gratification. So as soon as I got home I got the trimmer out of its box and plugged it in. Va va vroom!

Then I massacred the hedge. It's like cutting your own hair: "ooh, it's a bit crooked, I'll just even up this bit here..." and next thing you're half bald. Also, I didn't have time to get down the ladder and do the top, so it looks insane, especially from the upstairs windows. So quick, though! and so easy.

:: faye update

I wrote a screed in here and lost it -- Blogger is upgrading and I'm not quite used to the new look yet and managed to hit the wrong button. Hey ho.

Anyway, Faye phoned and yes, she is still alive! John, she was thrilled to get the jade, thank you. She promises to sit down some time soon, very soon, and write letters to everyone. It's just she's been having email problems. There's something wrong with her Yahoo account (not sure what, but she's sent lots of emails and none have arrived) and she can't plug in her Emailer because the gent she works for gets upset if anything new or different happens (he has Alzheimers). She's going to a) try and track down a cyber cafe in Reading and b) get her own phone line, or at least a socket.

She's fine, otherwise -- the job is good, much better than her last one, and she's enjoying getting to know the area. If anyone wants her address, please email me.

:: open market

I was walking Bertie this afternoon, when a van coming towards me pulled up. This is normal in our street: often people are lost and need directions to Hopetoun House, Deep Sea World or some street I've never heard of.

But this time the driver said: "I don't know if you're interested, but we've just finished a delivery for Reid Furnishing and we had some left over. We've got a cream leather Italian three-piece suite we could let you have for less than it should be."

I said no thanks, he admired Bertie and off they went, heading for the marina.

We they just going to drive around offering the suite to people at random until they sold it? Was it stolen? Was the van stolen? Do I look like the kind of person who would buy a cream leather Italian three-piece suite off a couple of blokes in a van? Did they even have a suite?

In other news, Andrew is coming down this weekend. He's going to Glasgow on Friday night and probably will stay at his aunty's place in Edinburgh that night (they're up north at the moment). Then on Saturday we'll hang out. I called Kate and Robbie to see if they want to join us but they weren't in; I'll keep trying. Andrew's going back on Sunday, and I'm going to drive north after him and we'll go for a walk somewhere nice, like Dunkeld.

:: the green room

Some snaps:


That's me in the mirror.

The walls don't look as yellowy-green as they do in real life.

This is one I took just after I'd finished painting, before the furniture went back in.

:: clonk

After all my moaning about being too busy, blah blah blah, guess what I did yesterday afternoon? I read a book in the sun, then I slept in the sun. It was lovely. I felt refreshed by it. Earlier I'd taken Bertie on a very long walk in the hot sun & he'd conked out. I was just having a sit-down with a cold drink and a book before getting busy in the garden.

Yeah, right.

Suddenly it was half past five, and time for another walk. I still haven't done any more gardening, but I really must -- I noticed this morning that the aphids have moved on to the honeysuckle flowers. I've never seen that before! Another mad thing that's happening is the rose bush out the front. Last year I carefully pruned it again, but didn't feed it. I'd pruned and fed it the previous year, and I think I read somewhere you shouldn't feed them too much. But lo and behold, it grew an astounding amount of foliage -- much, much more than last year. And this week, out came the flowers: not pink tea roses like last year, but single wild-rose type blooms. This is obviously the root-stock going rampant. But why this year? I'm baffled. There are a few pink roses struggling through, but mostly it's white. It may be time to grub up the whole bush and put in something else. I'd love a philadelphus, or mock orange, it has a wonderful smell.

:: whisking right along

I'm going to stop apologising for not writing more often ... it takes up too much time!

So, highlights: lots of work. I'm getting used to the livingroom & it doesn't look too bad really. I did at one point get the photos of it open ready to resize and upload, and then was distracted by something or other (probably realising it was nearly time to leave for work and I still hadn't had a shower or walked the dog). The garden is going rampant except for the blackcurrants, which have been eaten nearly to death by aphids. Or something aphid-like. Weather: hot and muggy. Always windless on my days off.

Bertie's fine. Amusing annecdote: The other day on our regular morning walk Bertie found something disgusting -- large, dark, floppy, possibly animal in origin -- and ate it. I couldn't tell what it was because though I ran after him screaming, he sprinted ahead and crunched it down. Oh yes, it crunched. Later that same day a colleague was telling me he'd walked his dog in Queensferry and I told him about Bertie's snack. "Oh, it was a rabbit," the colleague said. "Ozzy [his dog] had a look at it." Ewww!! Small world. No digestive repercussions for Bertie, thank goodness.

Faye is alive and well and living in a village near Reading. Anyone wanting her address and phone number, see me.

It's time to go home, whew. This has been a particularly gruelling day -- I got called in early because whoever was meant to do the Birthday Honours List for the paper was off and hadn't told anyone it was happening and I'm one of the few people who knows how to do it. Knowledge is power, I muttered to myself as I beavered away, eyeballs burning. Ach well, it's a living.

: I am still alive!

I've just been busy, that's all. I had a few days off recently, during which I finally painted the livingroom. It wasn't a great success -- I couldn't bring myself to scrape the textured wallpaper off because I knew that underneath it would be all nicotine-stained and need serious scrubbing. But painting over the paper didn't turn out to be a particularly easy option: I had to use a brush and kind of stipple the paint on, to get into all the little crevices. And it used up twice as much paint as I'd anticipated.

Finally, though, after two gruelling days, I stood and contemplated four freshly painted walls. And thought -- "I don't like it."

It's supposed to be the same colour as my old flat, a warm pale green, but it looks more yellowish lime. I've taken some photos, including one from outside the room that shows how when the sun is shining, the room actually looks radioactive. I think light is the key -- the house is so much lighter than my flat was, sunk in the gloom of an Old Town gully.

However! I am not going to repaint so I will just have to thole it. It does look a bit better with all the furniture, pictures etc back in.

Also on my days off I did a major tidy-up in the garden, mowing and weeding like a fiend as the thunder grumbled. And I went to an exhibition of Mario Testino photos with Fiona, and to The Matrix Reloaded, and I visited Kate and Robbie and wee Calum (who is doing well) and went on lots of walks.

Since then I've been cleaning up after painting, moving furniture etc, walking the dog and trying to find new fittings for the curtains. Oh, and working!

:: pix

I finally cobbled together a page of photos of my holiday on Halki. I had been working on a more complex setup with words as well as pictures, but it was a dog's breakfast so I ended up doing just a simple array of thumbnails with captions.

I was going to do a separate page of words this afternoon, but when I got back from walking the dog nothing electrical in the house worked. Phone, fridge, tv, video, computer, stereo, kettle, lights -- all dead. The power company says it'll be fixed by 6pm, which is no use to me: no video of the first episode of the new series of Six Feet Under, wah! Or the second episode of the new political thriller State of Play. Oh well.

When we went out for another walk (couldn't even mow the lawn, my mower's electric!), there was a large lady rummaging around in the substation cupboard thingie up the road, so hopefully the cut will be fixed before our freezers all defrost.

:: back home!

I got back from Greece at nearly 1am on Thursday, went up to Inverness on the train that day, then came back here on Saturday. I had Sunday off, and was back at work today (ok yesterday, as it's after midnight).

I've started making a web page with some of my photos from Halki, it should be ready to go in the next couple of days.

I had a wonderful time -- lots of sun, sea and good food. Bertie also had a great holiday -- he nearly caught a hare!

I'll email everyone when I post the pictures.

:: I'm so tired

I'm so tired. I'm so tired. I'm so tired.

Finished work this morning (Friday) at 5:45am, after a 6pm start. Drove home, stopping off en route to fill up on diesel and coolant (a red light came on on the dashboard, I had to look it up in the owner's manual!). Went straight to bed (in the spare room, due to the roofer having decided that Friday morning was an ideal time to replace my spouting). Slept fitfully -- I never sleep well when I'm overtired. Woke at 11:30am. Found message from gas man and phoned him; he wanted to come round right away. Argh. No sign of the roofers -- just a ladder leaning against the wall.

Had breakfast. Snarled at gas man and gas man's helper. Left them to get on with boiler inspection while I had a shower. Phoned roofer and got lowdown on what their plans were (work will be finished tomorrow), phoned Jenny re Bertie, who was sleeping over. She said she'd be right back. Snarled goodbye to gas men. Jenny and Bertie arrived in rainstorm. Made tea and chatted. Roofer had meanwhile arrived but was sitting in his van. Later he ventured out and set to work painting the new spouting. Jenny headed off and I took Bertie for a quick walk before heading off to work, an hour early due to minor crisis there.

Tonight was horrendous, beyond horrendous. I had to do my usual job, plus full-on tech support for a team of three subs who are really struggling with the new software, plus pull in the full results for the Scottish elections and fix the broken coding. I was on the go from the minute I got in until about five minutes before I started this. I managed to grab a sandwich at about 10pm, but didn't have a break before then.

Compared to that, the 12-hour election stint was a doddle. I had a sharp cookie helping me, and the coding on the results wasn't broken, so there was no problem running them in. The company laid on snacks and coffee, and a chef came in and whipped up bacon and egg sandwiches at 5:30am. There's always a great atmosphere on election night, a real buzz. But tonight was just a long grind.

Anyway, the good news is that the software changeover has been delayed for a week, so I won't have to work tomorrow. I'm still going out to dinner with my colleagues tomorrow night though, and I'm still going to train the staff at the Westminster office before I go to Greece. I'm so happy not to be working tomorrow! I have so many little things to do I really need the extra time.

Speaking of time, it's time to go home!

:: new shoes!

Buying shoes is a doddle compared to buying clothes. I went to Schuh, and got a pair of sneakers (Skecher Scooters, in caramel & cream suede) and a pair of stylee jandals (brown suede Schuhs, Birkenstock knock-offs with a formed footbed). It took about five minutes. Then I went to BhS and got a cheap straw hat. Having got the jandals I'm now thinking, hmmm, they'd look good with cropped trousers... oh dear.



Update on the dents on my legs (front of each thigh, about fingertip level, worst on the left leg): the doctor was completely baffled. She has no idea what's caused them and is going to consult her colleagues. I'll go back and see her after my holiday. I phoned the embolisation research sister & she talked to the radiologist and reported back that it probably wasn't anything to do with that, but is making an appointment for me in any case, "so she can reassure you". They don't hurt, so I'm not too worried, just curious.

Bertie hates his muzzle. It is cruel and unusual, and apparently he's never worn anything like it in his life. I make him wear it on our nightly excursion and he spends most of the walk trying to get it off. He looks like Hannibal Lecter:



Last night was particularly frustrating for him because when we set out on our walk there was a hedgehog strolling along the footpath right outside the gate.

Faye came round the other day and took Bertie out for a walk. She brought me some flowers, trilliums. The gardener where she works has offered me some plants, and I'd never heard of these. They're amazing!


This was my favourite, it's such a stunning colour; the other one is pretty too, white with plain pale green leaves.

Here are another couple of recent pictures:


I took this at Braid Hills a while back. I have no idea what it is. A man also walking his dog said he lives nearby and saw from his window someone putting it up. It's too big to be a splint, he thought. "Maybe it's art," I said. I can't reproduce the noise he made, but I think it's what the Victorians would write as "Pshaw!"


Some lovely colours on an ancient building on a jetty at Port Edgar.

:: more catching up

I really am on a mad treadmill, organising this, that and the next thing. Today's ticks on the to-do list were: order a muzzle for Bertie, make a hair appointment and talk to returning officers about the constituency list results for the Scottish parliamentary elections.

Bertie's getting a muzzle because he's going to stay on the farm and the farm is home to approximately 12 cats, and some of them are geriatric.

Tomorrow's my day off and I've got appointments with the doctor and the dentist, what fun. These very odd "dents" have appeared on my legs and I'm getting them checked out; and I have intermittent toothache.

Next week is going to be wildly busy: I have Monday off, then I'm working right through to Saturday. I usually always have Saturdays off, but we'll be helping with the changeover to the new computer software. The election is on Thursday and I'll be working hard doing the results that day and Friday. Sunday Andrew comes down, Sunday night he drives me to the airport. I stay with David and Donna and hang out with them on Monday, which is a bank holiday. Then on Tuesday morning I go to Westminster to train our political staff (yes! on my holiday!); then over to Victoria to train the London reporter, then back to Westminster for the final reporter.

Wednesday morning I fly to Greece. I can't tell you how much I'm looking forward to a break!

The return journey is all worked out too: I arrive back at Gatwick on the 7th and get an easyJet flight straight away to Edinburgh. The next day I go to Inverness on the return half of Andrew's train ticket. Then on Friday or Saturday I drive back down in my car -- which Andrew will have driven up in. The whole arrangement is so finely tuned it's frightening.

I bought a pair of shorts on Saturday, least said about that the better. I hate buying clothes, it's traumatic. I tried on several skirts but ... I'm not really into skirts, and the ones that fit just look awful. Also, they all seem to be that fashionably pre-grubbied denim or heavy twill -- I'd want something a bit more floaty & floral to avoid looking like a diesel dyke. I can get by on what I've got in my wardrobe, but I do need a hat and some sandals. I shouldn't really wear sandals, because I can't wear my special insoles with them. But I'm hoping it'll be so wonderfully hot in Greece that I'll need sandals. And shorts.

:: catching up

Where does the time go? Today, it went in hanging around waiting for the gas engineer who never came. I waited from noon until 6pm -- his window of opportunity -- and he didn't show. I called Scottish Gas several times and got various stories about where he was: mostly he was "en route to your premises", but sometimes he had been called out on an emergency and was "doing his best". "He might be trying to call you right now ma'am!" said one operative snippily.

My final, very angry call, got the horrid truth: the engineer had been listed as "en route to your premises" since 2pm. In other words, it was all a big lie. By this time I was not only angry, I was also two and a half hours late for work. And Bertie was beside himself with frustration -- "Let's go for a walk! Hey, isn't it time we went for a walk?" So after a fruitless conversation with the Scottish Gas operative ("As you've had a broken appointment, we can make a two-hour window for the next available appointment, on 24 April.") I wheeked Bertie round the park at top speed & roared off to work.

My head still hurts.

It was a pretty full-on weekend too; I built shelves into the alcove in the livingroom but didn't get to paint the room due to difficulties getting the right colour. Went out for dinner on Friday night with Fiona and a friend. That was funny: I was meant to meet them in a bar, which was very crowded. I scanned the mob, didn't see anyone familiar and went on to the restaurant. I was early there, so sat at the bar with a drink. When Fiona arrived, it turned out the woman I'd been sitting next to for ten minutes was her friend! She's fun and interesting, so it's a shame we didn't figure out our connection while we waited. The food was good too, simple and tasty.

I've ordered a pair of varifocal glasses -- old age, sigh. They're wildly expensive -- the "frames" are titanium -- but what the hell. I say "frames" because they're hardly that, they're just thin little shreds of wire to loop over my ears and another shred to hold the lenses apart over my nose. But being titanium, they're very strong, hypoallergenic shreds. And light! Very light.

I've organised the car insurance for Andrew's Cunning Plan -- only £17 to add him right through until July! A bargain.

Thanks for the wedding photos, Mum, some lovely shots there. I have to say I don't agree with you at all about the fringe, I think your hair looks great. You're altogether stylish -- great bone structure, nice suit!

:: gawker

I read about Gawker in the Guardian recently and meant to go and have a gawk but didn't ... and now I have and here it is. Probably more interesting if you live in Manhattan and work in publishing; good collection of links but.

:: ms efficiency

In fits and starts, anyway. I made a strict list of phone numbers today and got through them all. Dental appointment: check. Optician appointment: check (bifocals this time ... I'm soooo old). Garage appointment: check. Vet appointment: check. Sister appointment: check. That last was to make sure Faye's coming round tomorrow to watch The Wedding Video -- Liz and Ken sent us a copy. Faye's going to sneak in early and take Bertie for a walk, then I'll whip up lunch once I get up and we'll sit down for a "Missing the Family" session.

I also phoned the car insurance people to check out Andrew's Cunning Plan for May, when I go to Greece. His idea is to come down the day before I leave, drive me to the airport, and then (eventually, once he's tired of the fleshpots of Auld Reekie) drive Bertie back to the farm. Then when I come back, I'll get the train or bus up there and drive Bertie home again. Cool plan, I like it. I haven't got a quote on the extra insurance, but it shouldn't be a huge amount.

Spring is blasting along at such a rate that I mowed the lawn today, the bit out the front. I haven't done the back yet -- it looks so awful I can't bear too. I should take a photo from the upstairs and put it here for you to see: it's a real dog-owner's lawn, a collection of bald patches interspersed with yellow patches. I read somewhere if you give the dog tomato juice to drink its pee doesn't yellow the grass and I tried it and it did seem to work, but unfortunately Bertie went right off tomato juice. I tried sprinkling it on his food and he went on hunger strike. Next thing to try is some weird chemical from the pet shop.

I'm still astounded by the war coverage: more "friendly fire" mayhem; still no sign of Weapons of Mass Destruction (although they did find thousands of boxes of white powder in a military complex; "initial tests indicate it is not a chemical weapon" -- soap powder then?); Saddam's ferocious elite Republican Guard turn out to be a bunch of cowardy custards; Saddam himself is nowhere to be seen.

My favourite story so far is the description of the paras entering Basra. Their commander got them all pumped up about the dangers of close urban combat: "You will need to use everything you learned in Northern Ireland and Pristina." They'd lost a couple of guys in a gunfight early in the day so were feeling scared anyway. Off they go, crouching and aiming their guns at anything suspicious. Next thing they're mobbed ... by kids! "Welcome, how are you?" And a lady going past in her car toots her horn and waves! No-one shoots at them at all. They go right into Saddam's palace and peer at his gold-plated loo-roll holder and marble shower. They find a huge warehouse stuffed full of machine guns and ammo and grenades. "This is more firepower than is held by a British batallion," said Major Duncan McSporran (no, I'm not making up his name). "It's sobering to think what a well-trained army with a bit of backbone could have done to us with all this." Oooooo! Duncan! That was mean!

I'm on late tonight, 3:30am finish. It was wildly busy earlier on, I didn't manage a break at all, but it should be reasonably quiet later.

:: don't do drugs, n'kay? drugs are bad...

Click here for pictures of drugs so you know what to look out for. Just say NO!

(This one's real purty though ...)