What a surprise. Nobody has responded to my post in half an hour or so. Is it because they hate me? Am I boring?

NO. (Don't anybody start, I'll gut yas). It's because it's 10 after 6 in the morning!

And, I'll tell ya, The World's Most Unintelligent Canine is, unsurprisingly, a really shitty conversationalist.

So. Here I am.

Posting to myself.

Which is...unusual.

I should probably go back to reading the Internet. You know. Instead of...posting. To myself.

Oh my God.

I have...the SPACE! MADNESS!!!

...

I need more coffee.

I'm here! (I'm British. It's 11.10am here. That will be the reason I'm not in bed. Not that I wouldn't prefer to be in bed, you understand. But I'm supposed to be writing what is fast becoming The Dissertation From Hell. Must ring people today and persuade them they want to participate in my study, for absolutely no reward, at a time of year when they are very busy. That's going well so far.)

Um. Yes. I'm here.

...oh, ice cream bar...you have the same interests I do. Boiled football leather! Dog breath!

Wh-what's that? Who's there?

Oh! Hi. Um. Hey. Nice to make your, uh, your acquaintance. Excellent.

Please, have a seat. Don't mind the green stuff it's only Jell-O.

I'll, uh, go put on some pants, shall I? Back in a sec.

Want some coffee?

Happy SPACE!!!MADNESS!!!!! to you and Ollie, MM. May you both recover quickly, and that slipped disc behave itself better in the future.

It is not yet six o'clock here, and the cats are acting like they are starving to death. Because they have never been fed.

Judging by my Harvey's reaction to dropped potato chips, cats have no problems eating off the floor. Shoot, I've seen Sammie take food out of her dish, and drop it onto the floor before eating it. So, you are doing ok, Seska. If the people you are in loco cat-owner-is for did not give you a measuring scoop and say, this much, this time of day, your guess is as good as any one else's.

I'm here, because I woke up at 5:45 and a certain small furry creature decided that since I was awake, we could go! outside! now! He promptly fell back asleep. I did not.

Mr Peabody? Also not much of a conversationalist. He does, at times, bark in a conversational fashion, but there's a language barrier.

Want some coffee?

Tea for me (yes, I really am that British). Nice to make your acquaintance too. Pants. Yes. A good thing, they are.

So, you are doing ok, Seska. If the people you are in loco cat-owner-is for did not give you a measuring scoop and say, this much, this time of day, your guess is as good as any one else's.

They said half a can of cat food in the morning, with a dry food meal in the evening. I promptly gave the kitties half a can each, then realised they meant between them. Whoops. Well, it will not kill the cats, and there is cat food left over, and I can buy more of the same brand. It's all good. I was told to try and shut them in the kitchen overnight if I could, but at 4am they were making such a racket scratching at the door to get out (they appear to be *this close* to figuring out how a door handle works) that I gave up and let them out. Silly cats. They will survive my visit, I'm sure.

I am sans furry creatures for a few more hours. This did not prevent me from waking up at 6:30, listening for the sounds of a walrus in distress, AKA, Jasmine's "I'm hungry and I wanna go out and hey, I'm awake and why aren't you and did I mention I'm hungry?" noise.

Clearly, I'm rather fluent in Dog.

Brandy thinks it is time to get up when it gets light, which happens before 5am here. She clearly doesn't ever get fed adequately and doesn't mind at all that it is only 55°F and her mother really wants to stay under the covers. I caved around 6:30 and came downstairs to make coffee and let her frolic in the woods.

I read all my news and such before I came here because in my frozen early morning stupor I forgot that we have many pet parents here forced awake before that which is natural.

skip skip skippity skip

Oooh, Omnis, sounds like it's going well with The Girl? Excellent!

Hey, MM! Good job with the Academia-Fu!

Hugs and cookies and glitter to all as needs 'em. I am skipping in order to flail at the SHEER FUCKING ADORABILITY of Matt "Neville Longbottom" Lewis stressing out about the cricket in his Twitterstream, and Stephen Fry stressing out about the cricket in his Twitterstream. And Stephen Fry posting fretfully: "I don't think I've ever been more nervous. Either an outrageous world record for the Aussies or the end of 75 years of pain for us."

And then Matt Lewis posting: "@stephenfry: I couldn't have put it better myself, sir."

flails

It is the "sir" that has slain me. I can't think of a single young person of my acquaintance who uses that word. I'm always terribly disarmed by Americans using "sir" and "ma'am" at people, but I can tell you it's a hell of a rarity in the UK. Or at least the bits I've been in. So my heart has just exploded with whatever the female equivalent of avuncular pride would be. Good job, that boy!

Meanwhile, I spent a highly amusing half hour this afternoon taking tea (well, pink lemonade actually) with a Liberian gentleman who assured me that not only was he a pop star in his own country (one of the top 3, apparently), but he just so happened to have a huge amount of pure 24 carat gold in storage at the airport, which he had brought out to Bangkok for his dead father's business partner, but that since said business partner had vanished back to Japan leaving no contact details, here he is in Bangkok with lots of gold, needing the help of some selfless soul.

@@

This is what I get for writing Leverage fanfic. The universe gives me cute conartists. Cute very very bad conartists. Called Dave.

...

...honestly, I felt bad for the guy. Not bad enough to touch his scam with a bargepole, but bad. Whilst also thinking it was truly hilarious.

Fay!