Camy

erm ... never mind.

Fascinating, really fascinating. Let me add another point to the pot. The first thing I thought of when reading Trab's comment was the mix. Some producers intentionally mix the vocal back into the music, which means it's very hard to make out the lyrics. Often, with tracks like this, you get to know a song well enough to sing along to it, and then find - when you eventually see the lyrics - that what you're singing is wrong. Then there are artists who think lyrics are unimportant, and don't mind if they make sense or not. To me lyrics are all important. In my view songs are a storytellers medium, not a musicians. Camy Pretentious? Moi? Mais non.

Heh, weren't we all. 'Summersong' is beautifully written, and oh so poignant.

Huh? Great story, once I'd got over Trab's bombshell.

Wibby, I'm with you, understand the idea, and can't wait! Camy

Damn. It doesn't say how you can apply for some of the 'research' billions on offer. I'm sure I could come up with a few ludicrously apt ideas for weaponry. A herd of genetically enhanced Emus (fifty feet tall) with battle armour that makes them invisible (naturally), and trained to infiltrate the enemy on tippy toe (shhh). These leviathans would frighten even the most hardened of soldiers into wetting themselves, thus rendering them liable to the extremes of battlefield rash. I was going to wax lyrical about the phalanx of rabid hybrid Raccoons, but as they're already in 'production', I can't. Quango's rule. Membership please.

Stunning, Des absolutely stunning, though image 5 seems to be the same as image 2.Please don't be embarrassed at the picture of your house. I like it. No neighbours=Perfection.

Jason,Your blog title is apposite. I know 'you' not at all, yet I seem to know 'you' far too well. It worries me. Of course he cares (how the hell would I know). He might be married, he might have a daughter, and they might be the most important part of his life at present, but I'll bet he's spent a lot of time thinking about you. About the part of his life he couldn't handle.Camy

Yep! Definitely one of those EmusAnyway, 'tis summer here Emigre? Moi? Non! Non, non, non. Emus first went to Australia with the early convict ships. They were itinerant sailors. It's a little known fact that Coleridge got it wrong when he said - in the 'Rime of the Ancient Mariner' - that an Albatross was shot. It was an Emu. A relation of mine from way back. So there you have it. Emus are noble English birds.

Hmm. One of those Raccoons. Each to their own. Pointless to tell you quite where to put your pliers as you'd obviously enjoy it! Actually *preens* my feathers are at their best during June - mating season don't you know. :wub: hopefully...

So ... I'm fed up with my uber whiny blog entries, and much as I sincerely appreciate all the sage advice and help proffered, enough is enough - until the next time. We have a gig tomorrow night, and like any sensible fools we rehearsed. I wish I'd recorded it. My guitar, which has had some problems with its pick-up, has been fixed, has new strings, and sounds peachy. 'twas a good couple of hours. But not as good as the walk on the beach that followed Don't ask me why, but the beach was empty. It's the middle of June and there's no one around except for a few poor souls fishing. Why do they fish near sewage outfalls, and do they eat the fish they catch? Walking on an empty beach with the guy you love is ... well ... wonderful, fantabulous, magical, fun, erotic, inconsequential, meaningful, and very, very deeply deep. It was sunny, the sea was lively enough to be interesting and there was no wind to bring up goosebumps. We talked and talked, and honestly ... I'm one happy Emu. 'nuff said. Camy

Rubicon by Camy I knew it was a rubicon I was going to cross And I hesitated many times Watching your tow haired ruby lipped smile I dreamt of caressing your rosy cheeks Of running my fingers through your hallowed locks As I tried to guess how you would take the news That I love you Also as audio: http://camy.awesomedude.com/index2.html 20th June 2007

More than 10,000 websites have become unwitting hosts of malicious software, say security experts. Those visiting the hijacked pages risk having keylogging software installed on their PC if it is not protected with the latest patches. The webpages compromised are all legitimate sites devoted to subjects such as tax, jobs, tourism and cars. The sites are thought to have been booby-trapped using a malware kit, called MPack, sold commercially online. http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/technology/6221306.stm

You guys are beautiful, and I thank the deitys for it.*gets overly sentimental and canters off looking for butterflies*

Ha! *goes shopping for Cat costume*

I was fragile, and pretty miserable when I wrote the entry, and was on my way to delete it when I found all your comments. I'm blown away by the kindness I find here, and feel very humble. Thank you all.Sincerely,Camy

Heh. I find this almost too ludicrous to believe ... almost. It would be better to gas them so they down weapons and take up flower arranging. Or line dancing. Or Raccoon wrangling PS Congratulations on your WMS, Des

I'm feeling fragile. Apologies for the expletives. Ultimately it comes down to purpose. Why am I here, and what the fuck am I supposed to be doing? They say - depending on who the 'they' are - that I'm here to improve my lot and will come back time after time until I get the keys to ... heaven/nirvana/shangri-la or alternatively I'm gonna burn in the fires of hell. Well, I'm not keen. And I'm certainly not keen on the fires of hell. I want to know what it is I should be doing so I can get on with it. Hmm. Not too hard is it? Apparently, yes. It is. The concept of life I grew up with was: be a child, go to school, grow up, go to university, get a job, retire, die. Well, I've truly fucked up on that. I got stuck in the growing up bit, and I can't even seem to achieve that. There are no jobs for life anymore, and retirement is just a farce unless you happen to win the lottery. I wish my dad was still alive to tell me, though actually he was as lost as I am. His only piece of advice to me was 'do whatever you want provided you're happy, and don't harm others'. Nice, but really he should have given me a map. Then there are the side roads I seem to have drifted down. Like drugs. Well, yes I do. Unfortunately. Oh lord, hear my prayer, and send me a sign ... or the lottery numbers. I thank you. I should have been an astronaut or a steam train driver. Perhaps it's not to late. Ok, so maybe not an astronaut. I'm one fucked up Emu. Goodnight. Oh, and then there's M, my true love. I want to live with him, but achieving it seems nigh impossible. The C word - commitment - is just ... terrifying, yet why should it be? I love him, and he loves me. So why is it all so difficult?

Heh, thanks for the guffaws. :)

I hate painting too, though that's probably obvious.I had an idea for an easy way to decorate. The 'explosive paint tub'. You mask off everything you don't want painted - windows, doors etc, then light the touchpaper and retire for a snack. After a small explosion, you find the room is perfectly painted... Hmmm. Possibly not.

First the Raccoon herds us all over to the blogs, now he's trying to worry us back to the forums. Might I enquire if he really is a Raccoon? 'cause he seems more sheepdoggish than Raccoonish to me. Ha! My ten year correspondence course on Neology finally pays off! Wootypoosaleum.

If you like a well written and very 'English' ghost story, then let me recommend 'Tapping', by Kit http://www.crvboy.org/stories/kit/t/c01.html

They do if someone's snarfling their eggs. AND we can howl from baritone through falsetto, too.

I do not like this talk I like it not at all If they want to suck them raw The shells are bound to fall Shatter on a sparkley rock Shards fly east and west Though those that end up north are deemed to taste the best. *Shudders and canters away howling*

Elisa's crime was to hold a birthday party for her 16-year-old son Ryan and serve his friends beer... http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/americas/6747807.stm I am gobsmacked!