![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
just another future song
Sunday, 20 January 2008 09:29 pmThe sudden death of our kitchen scale a couple of weeks ago put severe kinks in my ability to bake, and my Evil Landlord's ability to meticulously weigh quantities of silicone powder for pewter moulding. (He's odd that way). So he went forth and bought the following:
When not docked in the cupboard, it divides its time between hovering around the house buzzing gently and shooting laser bolts at the cats, beaming up intelligence to the mother ship, and actually weighing stuff.
Today's random linkage is ultra-condensed sf and fantasy novels. I am extremely amused by the Anne Rice one, which is pleasingly rude.
Last Night I Dreamed: an extremely bizarre shipwreck, in which a large floating wooden house was slowly sinking while I frantically tied together bundles of wooden sticks to make bridges on which the occupants of the house/ship, who were a school comprised of small children who were also mice, could scurry to safety down a hole in the floor. Later, in a completely unconnected dream, I attended a book signing by Terry Pratchett. It was taking place in a barn, with a small crowd of rather supercilious geeks, and I spent most of the time frantically unpacking several large, rickety cupboards from my car so Terry could sign them. I then packed them all away again before he'd actually had a chance to do so.
When not docked in the cupboard, it divides its time between hovering around the house buzzing gently and shooting laser bolts at the cats, beaming up intelligence to the mother ship, and actually weighing stuff.
Today's random linkage is ultra-condensed sf and fantasy novels. I am extremely amused by the Anne Rice one, which is pleasingly rude.
Last Night I Dreamed: an extremely bizarre shipwreck, in which a large floating wooden house was slowly sinking while I frantically tied together bundles of wooden sticks to make bridges on which the occupants of the house/ship, who were a school comprised of small children who were also mice, could scurry to safety down a hole in the floor. Later, in a completely unconnected dream, I attended a book signing by Terry Pratchett. It was taking place in a barn, with a small crowd of rather supercilious geeks, and I spent most of the time frantically unpacking several large, rickety cupboards from my car so Terry could sign them. I then packed them all away again before he'd actually had a chance to do so.
