One leg one in, three legs out.
I'm guessing that the only real work out here is for a good retoucher.Friends are like rainbows, they're with you when the rain has fallen.
And hopefully they have pots of gold.
Voluntary Insulting Girlfriend Photos
Not just a volunteer but most of the time it is her idea.
Spa = Douchebag
Pike = Trailer trash
I saw this in the paper in the summer and have been trying to figure out the reason. Now I know.
Annaz Red Wine Table
I made this table which is inspired by red wine / port casks. It is also treated with an organic wood stain mixed with red wine so that when more wine is spilt on it, it will enhance the table even more. Win Win.
I'll be working from the toilet today
The average office desktop holds 400 times more bacteria than the average office toilet seat. Make sure you wash your hands and keep your work area clean. [source: Market Wire].
To prove a point, today Colin Hart and Kevin Rathgeber will be working from the men's toilet on 17. Come say hello if you get a chance. Check out their office.
With the flu season approaching and the reporting that we continue to hear about the H1N1 virus, there are some basic precautions that we need to take to ensure that we protect ourselves, our families and our work environment.
Widely recognized by health authorities, proper hand-washing is the single, most effective method of preventing the spread of illness. The use of hand sanitizers appears to be a good alternative or supplement. You will recall that we placed a number of hand sanitizers on all floors early this year. In walking around it appears, that they are still quite full in some areas and have not had to be replaced - yet. Please use them.
Many surfaces commonly touched by individuals such as office equipment, key boards, telephones, door handles, are not part of the building cleaning service so again we encourage all staff to personally pick up some wipes that you will find in your area for cleaning your equipment.
Brian O'Driscoll is an air hostess.
In his spare time when he isn't being amazing at rugby, he is working the trolley dolly isles of Air New Zealand. A bit like Julian Simmons used to do for British Midland before he hit the highs of introducing Coronation street full time.
Jenni-talias birthday cakes
A red velvet vagina cake made by baked by Anna and decorated by us both for Jenny Taylor's (Jennytalia's) Birthday and the sequel in the form of the other genitalia.
Belfast Poem
This blog is mainly about me putting up things that I have done but I read this and it described Belfast so well that I have to post it.
BELFAST
I'll speak to you dear stranger, if you really want to know
So listen and I'll tell you why I love this city so . . . .
BELFAST is an Ulsterman with features dour and grim
It's a pint of creamy porter and a Sunday morning hymn
It's a grimy little café, where they serve you dainty teas
It's fish and chips in paper or vinegar with peas
It's a banner on July the Twelfth, a sticky candy apple
A righteous little gospel hall, a Roman Catholic chapel
It's a ' Tele ' boy with dirty face, a piece of apple tart
A fry upon a Saturday or coal ' breek' on a cart.
It's a corporation gas man, complete with bowler hat
It's a wee shop at the corner, a friendly bit of chat
It's an ' oul ' lad in a duncher, a woman in a shawl
A pinch of snuff, a tatie farl, a loyal orange hall
A tobacco smell in York Street, a bag of yellow man
It's an Easter egg that's died in whin, a slice of Ormo pan
A youngster with some sprickly backs inside an ' oul ' glass jar
It's a meeting at the Customs House, or an ' oul ' Victorian bar.
It's mudbanks on the Lagan, when the tide is running low
It's a man collecting refuse, bonfires on Sandy Row
It's a bag of salty dullis, a bowl of irish stew
A goldfish bought in Gresham Street, a preacher at a queue
It's a portrait of King Billy upon a gable wall
A flower seller on a stool outside the City Hall
A half-moon round a doorstep, a ' polisman ' on guard
A pedlar crying "delph for regs", a little whitewashed yard.
It's a market on a Friday, the ships lined at the docks
It's a shiny polished fender, a bunch of green shamrocks
It's herrings fried in oaten meal, with a drink of buttermilk
It's a snowy linen hanky, as soft as finest silk
It's a bap with country butter, a dander round the zoo
A climb up Ben Madigan to get a splendid view
It's a bunch of savoury scallions, a plate of buttery champ
A hopscotch on the footpath, a swing around the lamp.
It's delph dogs on the mantelpiece, the wee man from the Pru
It's a chimney sweep on a bicycle, coming to do the flue
It's an ever present vista of the hills of Castlereagh
It's the deathly hush on Saturday, when Linfield plays away
It's "By Killarney's Lakes and Fells" on the bells of Assembly Hall
It's spiky broken bottles, stuck on the backyard wall
It's bacon boiled with pamphrey, served when piping hot
With Comber spuds like balls of flour, cracked laughing in the pot
It's the smell of Mansion polish on the lino in the hall
The Sunday School excursion, a treat for one and all
It's the island men who build great ships, that take us far to sea
It's the S D Bell's in Ann Street, where they sell the best of tea
It's friends home from America, who have you thinking long
The Salvation band on Sunday, to save the singing throng
It's a wee walk up the Lisburn Road and back by the Malone
It's the Albert Clock in High Street with it's rich and mellow tone.
And there's your answer, stranger, and now I'm sure you'll see
Why Belfast is the only place in all the world for me.
I don't know who wrote it and it's probably really famous, but its description is 'Bang On Big Lad'
BELFAST
I'll speak to you dear stranger, if you really want to know
So listen and I'll tell you why I love this city so . . . .
BELFAST is an Ulsterman with features dour and grim
It's a pint of creamy porter and a Sunday morning hymn
It's a grimy little café, where they serve you dainty teas
It's fish and chips in paper or vinegar with peas
It's a banner on July the Twelfth, a sticky candy apple
A righteous little gospel hall, a Roman Catholic chapel
It's a ' Tele ' boy with dirty face, a piece of apple tart
A fry upon a Saturday or coal ' breek' on a cart.
It's a corporation gas man, complete with bowler hat
It's a wee shop at the corner, a friendly bit of chat
It's an ' oul ' lad in a duncher, a woman in a shawl
A pinch of snuff, a tatie farl, a loyal orange hall
A tobacco smell in York Street, a bag of yellow man
It's an Easter egg that's died in whin, a slice of Ormo pan
A youngster with some sprickly backs inside an ' oul ' glass jar
It's a meeting at the Customs House, or an ' oul ' Victorian bar.
It's mudbanks on the Lagan, when the tide is running low
It's a man collecting refuse, bonfires on Sandy Row
It's a bag of salty dullis, a bowl of irish stew
A goldfish bought in Gresham Street, a preacher at a queue
It's a portrait of King Billy upon a gable wall
A flower seller on a stool outside the City Hall
A half-moon round a doorstep, a ' polisman ' on guard
A pedlar crying "delph for regs", a little whitewashed yard.
It's a market on a Friday, the ships lined at the docks
It's a shiny polished fender, a bunch of green shamrocks
It's herrings fried in oaten meal, with a drink of buttermilk
It's a snowy linen hanky, as soft as finest silk
It's a bap with country butter, a dander round the zoo
A climb up Ben Madigan to get a splendid view
It's a bunch of savoury scallions, a plate of buttery champ
A hopscotch on the footpath, a swing around the lamp.
It's delph dogs on the mantelpiece, the wee man from the Pru
It's a chimney sweep on a bicycle, coming to do the flue
It's an ever present vista of the hills of Castlereagh
It's the deathly hush on Saturday, when Linfield plays away
It's "By Killarney's Lakes and Fells" on the bells of Assembly Hall
It's spiky broken bottles, stuck on the backyard wall
It's bacon boiled with pamphrey, served when piping hot
With Comber spuds like balls of flour, cracked laughing in the pot
It's the smell of Mansion polish on the lino in the hall
The Sunday School excursion, a treat for one and all
It's the island men who build great ships, that take us far to sea
It's the S D Bell's in Ann Street, where they sell the best of tea
It's friends home from America, who have you thinking long
The Salvation band on Sunday, to save the singing throng
It's a wee walk up the Lisburn Road and back by the Malone
It's the Albert Clock in High Street with it's rich and mellow tone.
And there's your answer, stranger, and now I'm sure you'll see
Why Belfast is the only place in all the world for me.
I don't know who wrote it and it's probably really famous, but its description is 'Bang On Big Lad'
Cursor design
I am working on a project involving cursors and this is what happened for no apparent reason whatsoever but it looks cool.
Michael Jackson is Alive
He only took about 3 days more than Jesus to rise again. Also he is now a she and he/she lives is Chilliwack, BC. and likes white water rafting and Smirnoff Ice.
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