Susan Hated Literature

Got a text message today, from da mudder’s phone, but I could tell that it wasn’t from her, but the sister. Wanted to know if I’d go see her in the pantomime this year, I suppose I will But that aint the reason for this post. Got chatting to da mudder afterwards.

From certain posts you may be aware that my family are, to put it mildly, accident prone. There was the head in a gate incident, the fractured elbow, the black fly incident and the knitting needle through hand incident^[1] to name but a few. Well turns out that although brother #5, the injured elbow-boy is doing okay, Brother #4 has had an altercation.

Coming out of the Four Lights^[2] he was punched by some random. And so tackled him in response. Only being a little worse for wear^[3] he ended up on the ground. Hit his head and broke his teeth. Nice, I don’t think. Still, he’ll be off to Gweedore soon enough for his apprentice-ship college-ification. That might keep him out of trouble.

Honestly, brothers!

Also enquired about the sister and what she was dressed up as…. The Corpse Bride. Hope they took photos. Took an age to get all the dye out of her hair this morning, or so da mudder told me.

Singing mice. How cool.

They might not huddle round a marvellous mechanical mouse organ or live with an old cloth cat called Bagpuss, but scientists have discovered that mice are more musical than their simple squeaks suggest.

And if you pay a visit to the Guardian article you’ll even be able to listen to a song.

via Neil Gaiman’s blog.