10 April 2008

Now in a swirling, fluid motion

We had a tornado in Portugal yesterday, an hour away from Lisbon. WTF?? Is this the bit where I start planning to move? JUST POINT THE WAY! Want to know something completely demented? I heard abt it and immmediately thought OmygodandIdon'tevenhaveaboyfriend! Must have sprouted from the same place in my reptilian brain that hates to have to go through storms without a manly male in the house, was that thunder please let it not oh God IT WAS dog stop trying to climb me my panic isn't big enough for the both of us. I think it's also bcs, in my mind, storms are bloody frightening but a bit sexy too with a man around bcs I fel totally vulnerable, raw power and all that, instant return to The Protector and The Protectee archetypes. Why the male factor is at play here though I have no idea, nothing sexy abt a swallowing vortex of air and besides, what could a man possibly do, stand in front of me and pectoral it away?

My empty fridge essence and I need to pop round to the shop but am feeling so lazy I can't be bothered. But I must, am hungry now and V. keeps sending me photographs of all the recipes she whips up bcs yes, some people just whip up a little something that looks astonishing and probably tastes even better and then decide to send proof of it to those who are SLIGHTLY LESS BLESSED in that respect. Am surrounded by people who cook and my lower lip is bigger every day. I'm also fighting the urge to nap and failing, failing fast. I did sleep last night after a full 39 hours of nonstop reality but it was only 6 hours and then I went to classes [Hot teacher was back, woot] to learn how to not be conned by fishmongrels. [To note: Dover sole, the fleshiest species, has a spot at the base of the pectoral fin. Spots anywhere else or absent and you can call the inspectors on them. HA!] Napping would be a horrendous idea bcs I usually wake up nauseated and then I'm up for ages but so... very... hard... to... resist. I suppose I will go hunt some cheese puffs and other easy to prepare foods and don't you just know I will be up for ages but it's alright, no school tomorrow. I welcome the velvety night.

PS - I created a male Avatar for SL, will no longer be bothered by Emmas. I was doing a bit of exploring in this new place that looks like the Budd*ha Bar in Lisbon [a club where you sit outside in real beds, 4-poster beds with billowing curtains and pillows, ahhh] and sat on a bed but then decided to have a proper lie down so I activated the ball [balls allow you to do all sorts of things]. Dude, I ended up dry-humping the bloody pillow didn't I. Good thing I was alone in the club, my street credo would have vanished. Now I'm looking for some balls that will allow me to scratch mine bcs if I'm going to be a bloke I want all of it. Because I'm worth it.


14 furballs:

QuietusLeo said...

Cheese puffs, cheese puffs?
For the love of G-d!
I'm officially inviting you to supper (I know how to cook, remember?).

Lioness said...

Oh no, you too?? It's an epidemic, and I am the one who had to be immune.

[Anything with cheese is worth my effort, even cheese puffs. Plus - ready to eat!]

QuietusLeo said...

Yes, but so full of that poison: partially hydrogenated vegetable oil!
(Hey, I made children so I'd have an excuse to buy and eat Bamba - whoever doesn't know what Bamba is doesn't know what their missing. Incidently, it's made by the same machine that makes Dogli (Israel's leading dogfood.))
But still, I make real food.

Udge said...

Re dry-humping pillows: don't worry, happens all the time. When will people learn to give their pose balls meaningful titles?

Lioness said...

Oooh, Bamba! I miss those. Real food... Are you one of those happy couple where both can cook? I've heard they exist.

Udge, not to me! It was very unexpected. AND, I looked like a right tosser doing it.

pot roast isn't fancy, but my cheesecake, ahh.... said...

We're one of those two-cook happy couples. But we had to work at it, learning together.

When you come visit (ptu! ptu! shhhhhh!), I'll teach you to cook some easy, easy, very simple things and your life will never be the same. I swear. You'll be mellow and happy from the proper balance of protein, starch, fiber, and vitamins swirling through your veins. (A tornado?!!?)

Lioness said...

Oh no, please don't teach me! I'm not remotely teachable, pots wilt under my gaze, just accept it. (Yes!!! In Sant*arém!)

QuietusLeo said...

We have a division of labor: I cook she bakes.

Lioness said...

Blimey, bakers are even worse! I mean, people who willingly spend time in the kitchen, making cakes... Very exotic. :D

Dexter Colt said...

Tornadoes bounce right off my mighty pectorals. Why I diverted a tornado just the other day simply by glancing at it with an evil eye.

And, balls are a big responsibility. There's a lot more to having a set other than scratching them...I'll have you know.

Diana said...

A tornado???

I thought Portieland was immune to such horrors.

Am glad Emma will no longer be causing you grief and now that you've got your male pectorals, you can do battle with any 2L tornados you come across, yes?

Lioness said...

Shame abt the teleporting then. Maybe a framed picture of you outside my window...?

No no no, don't even think you can say that and not further educate me. Balls for Thongs, it's only fair. Go.

Diana, SO DID I. It's horrifying.

Emma disappeared that day but this way I ensure not having to deal with similar reincarnations. I'd need a legion of pectorals though, not doing much to assuage my well-braced phobias.

José said...

É a solução para os preguiçosos/nabos/maisquefazer/cobardes na cozinha.
É caro, mas vale a pena.
Pode voltar a gostar de sopas, de guisados, assados ou aquelas iguarias caseiras que apenas se comem na casa da mamã ou da vóvó.
E num - bom, ok, em dois - piscares de olhos.
Sobre tornados.
São raros em Portugal (Península Ibéria), mas sempre existiram. Os seus pais, ou eventualmente avós, recordar-se-ão de um tornado forte que causou vários mortos nos finais dos anos 50.
Nas estradas do Alentejo e "pradaria" espanhola, em tempo de trovoada, não é de todo invulgar observar micro-tornados, com os seus vortex bem desenhados. Bem bonito de se ver. E meio assustador, também.
Declaração de interesses: Não vendo ou tenho qualquer interesse na Vorwerk. :)

Lioness said...

Continuo a ser eu que dar o toque final, não é? E é aí que a porca torce o rabo... E sim, raros! Espero que continuem a ser muito raros. Não me fale nos micro que já várias vezes ia tendo trecos.