So, today, when I tried to have a sip of tea, she did the same thing. I tried once again, but this time with my phone recording video. I let the video speak for itself.

Today I’d like to add another category of animals – birds that shit on you and/or your laptop. I was working outside, enjoying a rare moment of warm, intense sun in London, doing work while actually getting a tan. And suddenly, WHAP! A  giant splat of brown & white liquid hits my wrist, laptop, and laptop sleeve case. It was truly disgusting – not the dry stuff that has hit me before, but looked like this bird just ate a bowl of worms and then a few Ex-lax.

Had I had an air rifle, I would have shot the damn thing. Sadly, I washed it off before I could take any great pictures.

The Spanish (and Ukranians, I also learned today) will tell you that when you are shit (shat? what is the past tense?) on by a bird, that you will find new money. So I’ll buy a lottery ticket today, and we’ll see what happens.

The other thing that reminded me I was in NJ today was a business’s sign. I was driving through a rural area where I saw a small business selling stone for landscaping, sheds, and a sign up saying “We have tiger fencing.” Really? Is that a decorative thing, like a style of fencing, or a kind of fencing that you use to keep tigers? Please keep in mind this was only miles away from the site of the infamous Tiger Lady of NJ.

Here’s a select personal history:

In 2005, Gate Gourmet, the catering company for BA, fired 600+ staff by literally shouting the dismissal through a megaphone to picketing strikers. In response, BA ground crew went on strike in sympathy for Gate Gourmet workers. I had boarded the plane, the gate had been pulled back, but minutes before ground crew had reversed the plane (which apparently can’t go in reverse itself without damaging the terminal), the strike began. So I sat on the plane 7 hours, eventually disembarked to the same airport, and spent 5 days in London without luggage waiting to fly home. I still wear the shoes I bought on BA’s dime, as I only had flip-flops with me.

In 2006, politicians needing a distraction from their own misdeeds claimed that a bunch of half-wits without passports or tickets were going to imminently blow up a plane, which is why you can no longer carry a water bottle onto a plane. You can of course carry contact lens solution, which means our planes are safe unless Osama bin Whatsit starts wearing contacts. Anyway, I was en route from the island of Corsica to New York City, with an 8 hour stopover in London which turned into 4 days. At least I had my luggage this time.

In 2010, a volcano (of all things) shuts down British airspace for the longest period of time in aviation history. All UK flights have been grounded since Thursday (today is Monday) and I don’t know when I’ll fly, as the damn volcano is still exploding. Comically, the Germans think the UK restrictions, which extend to their airspace, are a bunch of nonsense, and have been flying empty planes around to prove this. My guess is that some bureaucrat has realized that if he authorizes flights, and people die, he gets fired, so said bureaucrat is staying on the safe side. That said, the risk is legitimately real, as volcano ash turns to molten glass inside jet engines, and cars in my street are covered with a fine layer of ash.

I response, I’m holding a Stranded in London party this afternoon.

http://www.pooh-sticks.com/

I went, lights were setup, photos were taken, and until today that was all I knew, as I waited for the photographs to be developed on film. I got the first few back today, and while the more serious ones don’t suit me, there was a bit quirky, and I like it! Of course, it’s still a face only a mother could love, but it’s the only face I have . . .

Handsome Devil? Or just devil?

It wasn’t purposeful – I was at their house eating a chocolate cookie when Siena walked by and I gave her a cookie. A few seconds and one shriek later Jeff was in the kitchen reading the ingredients on the cookie box, checking for nuts. Luckily the cookies didn’t contain any nuts, though the box gave one of those CYA vague warnings about not being suitable for people with nut allergies. The cookie, missing only one bite, was removed from Siena’s little hands as she gave puppy dog eyes to all around.

But I learned not to feed children cookies without checking with parents.

I made about four out of the collection. You may find some of these tasteless and offensive, but I didn’t make those. Really, I swear.

Photo album: (click image to see more)

Anne Boleyn (Henry the VII's Wife)

Soldier and Santa's Helper

Priest with Acolyte

You can see all the photos of the 30-plus offensive gingerbread men (and remember I am the photographer of the cookies but not the creator of all the cookies)

Lots of headstones and monuments burried under vines and overgrowth, with a crypt full of disintegrating coffins. Very cool.

After the shock of the first session, I went back, enjoying each class more than the last. But while I felt good in class, my brain needed the rest of the day to recover. I truly couldn’t focus on anything. It was like being hungover, or trying to get work done on 2 hours sleep. So today (another fairly wasted day) was my last Bikram Yoga day.

Update: About a week after my last class, I noticed my side hurted when I turned or bent at an angle. Apparently, I pulled an abdominal or oblique muscle in Bikram yoga – a muscle that took over two months to heal. Hello? I injured myself in yoga? Something is seriously, seriously wrong.