Isn't today just.... Glorious?
Today was spent with pretty pretty pretty girl. Last sunday we spent together, we hung out by a a large body of water, and chatted about oh... all sorts of things. There was shy, body contact, accidental hand holding and lots of meaningful eyecontact. I got a tan. It was fun.
Today, we went to the Natural History Museum in scenic South Kensington, and looked at Dinosaurs. Notice the big D. Like other people talk about god, I talk about Dinosaurs.
I don't give shit if Jesus of Nazareth is the son of Jehovah, he goes toe to toe with an Allosaurus, that skinny little shit doesn't last two seconds. The Pope gets between a Triceratops and her calf, guess the outcome.
Organised religion has fuck all on Thunder Lizards. Believe.
Anyway... As a general rule, our conversation ran along the following lines:
"It's a Dinosaur!"
"It's Fucking MASSIVE!"
"I want to ride it like a horse!"
"Look at the size of that fuckers teeth!"
"Massive! Like a Tank with Legs!"
"It's Got Horns!"
"MASSIVE!"
"What do you think Dinosaurs taste like?"
"Bigger than god!"
"Who'd win in a fight between that one and that one?"
"Ahhh look, little ones!"
Etc. Then we went and found the blue whale.
"It's fucking massive!"
Along the way, we found out that a Mammoth was found in Ilford, which made me sulk a bit, because Romford wasn't represented. We also found out that whilst I can't remember things like my parent's birthdays or the age of my little brother, I have a wealth of useless facts that are only useful in a museum.
Such as Giraffes have exactly the same number of vertebrae in their necks as you or me or a mouse.
If you can guess how many, I'll give you a clap.
Then we found a load of stuff preserved formalin in jars, like intestinal worms, octopus, sharks heads, bats, and pythons. We discussed the possibilty of turning the Python jar into the best novelty lightbulb ever.
It was at this moment I happened to glance over at her whilst we stared enraptured by a collection of cane toads, salamanders and tree frogs in jars of alcohol that I started to really get stupid over her.
In the insect gallery, before the Leaf-cutter Ant farm we argued about what was best, millipedes or centipedes. This sealed the deal. I am offically retarded for her.
And then on the way home I idly played with her shoulder blades. They are lovely. She is lovely. I have new tatts as well, but you won't see them until they're done.
But enough about me...
What have you been up to, my merry mishapen mutant minions? Can it best the raw shining glory that is abusing the Natural History Museum to charm your paramour? What's that? It can't?
IN YOUR FACE! IN YOUR FACE!
I RULE!
IN YOUR FACE!
It feels good to win.
Today was spent with pretty pretty pretty girl. Last sunday we spent together, we hung out by a a large body of water, and chatted about oh... all sorts of things. There was shy, body contact, accidental hand holding and lots of meaningful eyecontact. I got a tan. It was fun.
Today, we went to the Natural History Museum in scenic South Kensington, and looked at Dinosaurs. Notice the big D. Like other people talk about god, I talk about Dinosaurs.
I don't give shit if Jesus of Nazareth is the son of Jehovah, he goes toe to toe with an Allosaurus, that skinny little shit doesn't last two seconds. The Pope gets between a Triceratops and her calf, guess the outcome.
Organised religion has fuck all on Thunder Lizards. Believe.
Anyway... As a general rule, our conversation ran along the following lines:
"It's a Dinosaur!"
"It's Fucking MASSIVE!"
"I want to ride it like a horse!"
"Look at the size of that fuckers teeth!"
"Massive! Like a Tank with Legs!"
"It's Got Horns!"
"MASSIVE!"
"What do you think Dinosaurs taste like?"
"Bigger than god!"
"Who'd win in a fight between that one and that one?"
"Ahhh look, little ones!"
Etc. Then we went and found the blue whale.
"It's fucking massive!"
Along the way, we found out that a Mammoth was found in Ilford, which made me sulk a bit, because Romford wasn't represented. We also found out that whilst I can't remember things like my parent's birthdays or the age of my little brother, I have a wealth of useless facts that are only useful in a museum.
Such as Giraffes have exactly the same number of vertebrae in their necks as you or me or a mouse.
If you can guess how many, I'll give you a clap.
Then we found a load of stuff preserved formalin in jars, like intestinal worms, octopus, sharks heads, bats, and pythons. We discussed the possibilty of turning the Python jar into the best novelty lightbulb ever.
It was at this moment I happened to glance over at her whilst we stared enraptured by a collection of cane toads, salamanders and tree frogs in jars of alcohol that I started to really get stupid over her.
In the insect gallery, before the Leaf-cutter Ant farm we argued about what was best, millipedes or centipedes. This sealed the deal. I am offically retarded for her.
And then on the way home I idly played with her shoulder blades. They are lovely. She is lovely. I have new tatts as well, but you won't see them until they're done.
But enough about me...
What have you been up to, my merry mishapen mutant minions? Can it best the raw shining glory that is abusing the Natural History Museum to charm your paramour? What's that? It can't?
IN YOUR FACE! IN YOUR FACE!
I RULE!
IN YOUR FACE!
It feels good to win.
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Damn Mondays!