Sunday, January 27, 2013

adventures in moominland

Friday was Burns Night, so 4 pals and I drove through the snow down to Perthshire to spend the night in a tipi in the forest, drinking whisky and eating haggis and pretending to be the Finn Family Moomintroll.

The tipi was so cute, full of metal cups and a wood burning fire and oil lamps! So we didn't freeze in the insane-in-the-membrane amounts of snow. PLUS, also did not get murdered like the youths in slasher films always do when they go and stay in the woods. Always a cheeky extra.

And since this post seems to be entirely some jangly spangly Juno-type twee business (+ in honour of my best gurl Little My), let's listen to some grown adults wearing animal costumes and playing children's instruments!

Thursday, January 24, 2013

cold part of town

Last semester I bought 8 disposable cameras for 50p apiece in a crazy clearance sale in Boots. Here are some pictures of a grubby modern Narnia, aka Aberdoom in the snow.

everything is good

Signs, 2013. (pictures via

I wish that I could shrink David Shrigley down to pocked-size, so that he could be my constant spiritual guide to the modern world.

Thursday, January 17, 2013

sturm und drang

this is the highest the sun ever gets

So all the pretty snow has melted into howling gale and torrential rain and mist, which although nice and Gothic and literary-ish for my exam tomorrow (WHICH I AM NOT READY FOR AT ALL HENCE THIS PROCRASTINATORY POST, ayooooo), also means that I have been going Jack-a-dull-boy insane while wrapped up doing hibervision in bed.

And also dreaming of freedom/thinking about how much I love Li Wei.

I WANT TO FLOAT AWAY ON A CLOUD OF BALLOONS! Pref to Argentina or maybe Venezuela. Gracias.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

you got to be somebody, ain't ya, or you might as well jump in the sea and drown

On Monday the boy and I continued the age-old tradition of scummy Londoners lurking down to Brighton to beat the shit out of each other on the beach drink lots of cocktails and play the arcades.

First we visited the Booth Museum, which is an eerie Victorian taxidermy haven. This was fantastic seeing as I'm fairly sure I was a butterfly-stabbing, deer-shooting creepy Victorian bachelor in a past life. James mused that if it was his museum, he'd be watching with a close eye to make sure I didn't steal anything. That sentiment is about correct.

For example, THIS GUY;

would look mighty 'andsome on my desk when I eventually start revising all the American Gothic I need to get through in the next week.

Also you can never have too many bones knocking about the place.

We had a few night time strolls, drawn to the bright lights and confectionery buildings like the fat moths we are;

and had a great time strolling on the beach and chucking pebbles at each other.

We also found a brill paper and advertising shop with all kinds of vintage smut, including the captivatingly repulsive 'sexy baby' pin-up above, which I was incredibly tempted to buy (but just about managed to refrain). Though I DID obtain a slutty tropical Errol Flynn, posing here on a wooden table with some mulled cider and a vintage Brighton postcard.

(In case you ever wondered why my blog has such a stupid name, it is because I am a simple soul and really do always just want to blimmin' go to the beach. That and also the magnificent lachrymosity of mi amor Iggy Pop.)

Sunday, January 6, 2013

this must be the place

I have been hibernating in my pit all day feeling sorry for myself for being so snotty, and planning tomorrow's adventure to the seaside. At least Struwwelpeter, Hamish and David Byrne are excellent company.