Reading between the lines

It's still snowing on and off, in short flurries of fine ice-dust.  I wonder what "the Indians" would make of it.  If you Google the phrase "Little snow big snow" it picks up several Canadian blogs, but I wasn't able to find any actual source of the phrase.  I still like it a lot.

Anyhoo.

This is hilarious.  I think I could probably have done it just as well myself with a thick black pencil and some grey crayon.  I might try it later.  You just take a picture of someone famous and then draw in as many wrinkles, eye bags, grey hairs and liver spots as space allows, it seems.  I wonder how much "Washington-based forensic artist Joe Mullins " got paid for this stunning piece of work. 

Maybe I should commission a portrait. 

I rather like this as well.  If you can't be arsed with the link, it's a story on the Telegraph website saying that Facebook and Twitter users are "buying more friends" in an attempt to look popular.  Exactly how insecure do you need to be to:

(a) worry about how many friends you have on Facebook/Twitter and

(b) to go to the trouble of "buying" more in? 

I'm a firm believer in quality over quantity, which probably explains why I have a comparatively low number of friends on the old Facebook.  I think with only one or two exceptions, they are real life friends anyway.  People I have actually met.  In the flesh.  With talking and looking and everything.  Incredible, really. 

Social networking.  It's a fantastically lazy way of keeping in touch, and showing everyone the holiday photos without all the driving.  As it is, I can't keep up with everyone, so more would make life even more complicated.  And who's impressed anyway?  I can't imagine what the intended audience for these people is.

Other news:  The Black Lung continues to make me cough till my eyes dry out, but with the added delightful bonus of gagging and spitting.  Yeah, I bet you wish I had a live webcam link, don't you?  I am on the mend I think, but it is bloody horrible.

The cleaners made it here this morning, despite the snow, and were most impressed as I hacked and retched painfully through a conversation with them. 

 "Oooh, listen to you - you should be in bed!"

I was sent up to my study while they chiselled 4 weeks worth of crud off the downstairs of the house.  As they were leaving I had another huge coughing fit, and they stood and watched me sympathetically.

"Good job you don't have a weak bladder," said one.

"Oooh yes, if you did you'd have more than that cough to worry about."

"I was fine before I had my children.  Now, I daren't cough.  Not like that, anyway."

Buggers.