Cosy crime travel to Wainwright while dangerous blondes lurk

A quiet day. Madame has Wainwright tonight. She has been curled up reading some Evelyn Waugh. A selection of his travel writing.

I'm not that keen on travel books. I would rather be out and doing for myself. But Madame is fond of the quirkier, chattier books. One bloke's trip around the shipping forecast. That kind of thing.

She is also on a cosy crime spree. Working her way through a pile of pretty green and white Penguins. Full of frustrated maiden aunts poisioning curates and housemaids with arsenic filled muffins.

I prefer my crime hardboiled. Chandler. Hammett. Noir. Flickering neon. Neat bourbon. Dangerous blondes.

Bears know all about dangerous blondes.

It's true. No bowl of porridge, no shuggly chair, no freshly made bed is safe while blondes roam free.

Bear on a bridge. Bear in a cave. Horse on drugs. Socialist squirrels.

I'm not buying this bear on a bridge story. He panicked. Humph. I think we all know that this was an Extreme Ironing stunt that went wrong. Just out of shot in that first photo there's a polar bear legging it with a can of spray starch and a pile of freshly pressed pillow cases.

Elsewhere on the Interknit I've learned that drugs is bad.

And why Mummy Mommy Squirrel is a democrat.

I haven't thought about it too much but I'd say that the squirrels about here looked more like Socialist Workers. I'll try humming The Red Flag next time one lands in the window box.

Had a bit of old fashioned fun last weekend thanks to a challenge from top bear Jasper - pillow fort building.

I built me a Cushion Cave. Snuggly. A certain person was rather sniffy.

"Stop messing up the bed. Why are you building a Neolithic burial chamber out of cushions?"

Just jealous. And there weren't enough pillows for a Great Pyramid.

A bear called It. And another bear called Pemberthy

Another blogging bear. Yay! Pemberthy. He looks rather charming and civilised. I'm feeling a bit shy about saying "hello".

Civilised. Sigh.

Madame has had the day off work. To "do stuff".

Eating chocolate buttons for breakfast. Sitting around in her jammies, drinking beer, and reading naughty comics. Sticking feathers in her hair and pretending she's a showgirl.

She has finally managed to get us connect up to ... oh, dear ... Godzilla Watervole.

- Would you be meaning Mozilla Firefox?
- 'ullo, little animal. pat. pat. pat. haven't wu got shiny ickle peepers. pat. pat. pat. dance for me!

Let's have some nice, soothing music. Jane by Stephen Duffy. And a little lie down in a darkened room.

Bears! Bears! Bears!

Potapych : the Bear Who Loved Vodka



More from Metafilter.

And today's Savage Chickens.

And I finally got to see the Werner Herzog film "Grizzly Man" yesterday.

It's like Bear Day has come early this year. Meh. "Teddy Bear Day is NOT an official holiday. Your teddy bear does not get the day off". We'll see about that.

I am bear, hear me roar

I've forgiven her because she's found me this. The sound of bears. sniff. I wish I was out there. Catching salmon from clear, fast flowing Alaskan rivers. Terrorising sheep and Canadians. Climbing trees. Stealing picnic baskets. But she says it's cold out and I'm not sure where I left my scarf and mittens. Might just go back to bed instead.