whatho: (Heathrow)
Right. I go to Heathrow now(ish) to hunt for my brother. Also my cousin still isn't here. All's quiet. Too quiet maybe. Cover me. Yes. And odds are I shan't actually ignore you completely on my return till winter draws in or something along those lines. Good.
whatho: (Heathrow)
Right. I go to Heathrow now(ish) to hunt for my brother. Also my cousin still isn't here. All's quiet. Too quiet maybe. Cover me. Yes. And odds are I shan't actually ignore you completely on my return till winter draws in or something along those lines. Good.
whatho: (Hornblower)
I believe I may have just eaten a sizeable bowl of ice-cream. I think on balance I did. First I had carrots, then I had ice-cream. Now I'm freezing. That'll be physics, that will. You can't pass heat from a cooler to a hotter, hence I lost degrees Celsius and doubtless otherwise to the ice-cream.

This post was supposed to be about bestiality.

I hope my brother hasn't decided over the past nine months that he doesn't like me. That'd be rubbish. I'm going to make him a cake, just to be sure. And we're going to watch Lost together because his flatmate watched the last few episodes without him and somehow has been forgiven nonetheless. And Nightingales. I'm going to make him watch Nightingales and if he doesn't like it I'll probably have to disown him, but it's fine, because he will like it. I know his brain fairly well.

My brother does not engage in bestiality. Not even for comic purposes.

I cannot cope with Alistair Darling's being in the public eye, and he very much is. His eyebrows and his hair do not in any sense match. That's the main reason really. His eyebrows are like they came off an entirely different animal. I can't bear it. Probably I can if I try even a little bit. The BBC news announcer person just said 'Hello, Darling'. If we're going to get all the Captain Darling jokes, I might actually be able to handle the situation.

I don't think Alistair Darling has very much to do with bestiality. Oh. Hornblower'll do.

Why is Blair still on the telly? I thought we buried him.
whatho: (Hornblower)
I believe I may have just eaten a sizeable bowl of ice-cream. I think on balance I did. First I had carrots, then I had ice-cream. Now I'm freezing. That'll be physics, that will. You can't pass heat from a cooler to a hotter, hence I lost degrees Celsius and doubtless otherwise to the ice-cream.

This post was supposed to be about bestiality.

I hope my brother hasn't decided over the past nine months that he doesn't like me. That'd be rubbish. I'm going to make him a cake, just to be sure. And we're going to watch Lost together because his flatmate watched the last few episodes without him and somehow has been forgiven nonetheless. And Nightingales. I'm going to make him watch Nightingales and if he doesn't like it I'll probably have to disown him, but it's fine, because he will like it. I know his brain fairly well.

My brother does not engage in bestiality. Not even for comic purposes.

I cannot cope with Alistair Darling's being in the public eye, and he very much is. His eyebrows and his hair do not in any sense match. That's the main reason really. His eyebrows are like they came off an entirely different animal. I can't bear it. Probably I can if I try even a little bit. The BBC news announcer person just said 'Hello, Darling'. If we're going to get all the Captain Darling jokes, I might actually be able to handle the situation.

I don't think Alistair Darling has very much to do with bestiality. Oh. Hornblower'll do.

Why is Blair still on the telly? I thought we buried him.
whatho: (Heathrow)
WOO. I just got a last email from my brother before he does a spot of sleeping then heads for the airport and hopes his 'plane doesn't crash on a weird monster-infected island. We all hope the same. I think due to the time difference he arrives a couple of hours after leaving, which is clever, but is probably going to mess with his head fairly severely. Or probably not. He's kind of good at ignoring that sort of thing.

So tomorrow I go to Heathrow (see? I'll have to post about bestiality next) to collect him. I haven't been to Heathrow since coming back from India three years ago, which essentially was no fun at all. But this is different. There are three great things about this whole situation:

1. My brother's coming back, which needs no elaboration.
2. I'll be going to Heathrow, which, like the rest of my LJ, is a Nightingales in-joke and makes me very happy indeed.
3. My cousin isn't here.

This last point is slightly terrifying me. Anyone reading nine months ago might recall that she imposed herself heavily and for an unsettling amount of time on my brother's departure, and a vile time was guaranteed for all. This time, she's in a different country. But I dreamt that she rang us. It was quite distressing. The 'phone did go off this morning, which was even more distressing, but it was a wrong number. Sick joke, world. I don't think we should answer it again till he comes home.

Heathrow! I mean brother!
whatho: (Heathrow)
WOO. I just got a last email from my brother before he does a spot of sleeping then heads for the airport and hopes his 'plane doesn't crash on a weird monster-infected island. We all hope the same. I think due to the time difference he arrives a couple of hours after leaving, which is clever, but is probably going to mess with his head fairly severely. Or probably not. He's kind of good at ignoring that sort of thing.

So tomorrow I go to Heathrow (see? I'll have to post about bestiality next) to collect him. I haven't been to Heathrow since coming back from India three years ago, which essentially was no fun at all. But this is different. There are three great things about this whole situation:

1. My brother's coming back, which needs no elaboration.
2. I'll be going to Heathrow, which, like the rest of my LJ, is a Nightingales in-joke and makes me very happy indeed.
3. My cousin isn't here.

This last point is slightly terrifying me. Anyone reading nine months ago might recall that she imposed herself heavily and for an unsettling amount of time on my brother's departure, and a vile time was guaranteed for all. This time, she's in a different country. But I dreamt that she rang us. It was quite distressing. The 'phone did go off this morning, which was even more distressing, but it was a wrong number. Sick joke, world. I don't think we should answer it again till he comes home.

Heathrow! I mean brother!

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