Shooting the messenger. A family game for 1 to 50 billion participants.
Snow is a monstrous occurrence before which all should quake in fear. White death, powerful and invincible even in its lightest measure. Tremble before it puny mortals. Run, mewling for your mother's embrace. Quake in fear and await your doom in compliant supplication.
Extract from Heathrow airport operating manual.
posted by Stef the engineer at Sunday, January 20, 2013
Preparing for a graceless descent into middle age, recently moved down South, trying to buy a house, juggling childcare, living for time on the water followed by a decent pint. Married with two cats. We don't have to send them through college, and they keep the mice down. Mind you, you can't send them up the chimney to clean it. (Since had suggestions from friends involving pointy sticks, and the cat taking a passive, if uncomfortable, role in the procedure. Note to self: get nicer friends.) For a mid-life crisis decided to have a baby; didn't quite realise quite how demanding the Tiny Tyrant would be, although she rules by love rather than fear. Actually now she's toddling and talking there is some fear in there too. Star sign: Bollocks (but then they all are)
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