Sharp objects

John Wiswell wanted me to pose with the sharpest object in my house. Well, Wiswell (get it? Well, Wiswell? heh) the sharpest objects are outside my house. Remember that kid in The Christmas Story that got a BB in his eye and blamed it on an icicle? I was reminded of that kid today. I was thinking that maybe posing with an icicle pointed at the eye that had surgery two days ago is not the smartest idea I ever had. There was no one around to take these photos so I improvised. This photo? It was meant to be a full frame of my face and the icicle. You can see how that worked.

So I thought, maybe I'll take a picture of my reflection with the icicle. In the first pose I just stood there. It wasn't too exciting so this time I lifted my leg in the air and leaned to the left. I think this pose is so much more dramatic, although in hindsight I realize it looks like I'm peeing on the kitchen table.

At first I thought I looked like Paul McCartney in this photo. That was a couple of hours ago. Now I think I look like death warmed over, or perhaps a wax statue of Paul McCartney, you know, if he gained weight and grew boobs. Look at my lips. Look harder, they're there. They totally blend in with my face. It's like I don't even have lips. If it wasn't for yellow teeth, you wouldn't even be able to tell I had a mouth. Until I opened it, that is. 

Again with the drama. I studied theatre arts for three years in high school. It was one of my best subjects. I know, you're not surprised. (Drama Queen. You're thinking it. Don't deny it.) At least I have lips in this photo. Actually, I don't. I took a picture of my cat's arse and photoshopped it on my chin.

I dunno. I have no idea. All I can say is "theatre arts." Oh, and constipation.

All this is in aid of the Liebster Blog Award, which John Wiswell honoured me with this morning. I think the rules are something like, take a photo of yourself with the sharpest object in the house and name five other bloggers who you think aren't the sharpest knives in the drawer. Or maybe they ARE the sharpest knives. Sharp. Dull, wtf, I don't know. I forget and I'm way too lazy to go back to John's and find out.

In the spirit of passing on the Liebster love, I'm honouring these lucky folks:

Lisa at Diary of a Square Toothed Girl because she is funny and she doesn't dye her hair, which makes her my hero. And apparently she has square teeth, but you couldn't prove it by me - mostly she has her lips closed in her photos. At least she has lips. Doesn't have to photoshop pictures of her cat's butt. If she even has a cat. That has a butt. Which is a stretch.

John at Going Gently because he, too, is funny and he has crazy pictures of his googly-eyed chickens on his masthead and he just gave whole new meaning to the slogan "put pork on your fork," stirring up quite a controversy. Somebody even sent him graven voodoo messages involving scary stuff - I forget what it was, but it was scary. Also he posts photos of very good looking men sometimes. Y'know, when he's not showcasing hens.

Cro at Magnon's Meanderings because he's friends with John and they're both over across the pond somewhere and they both have an inordinate amount of dogs and they're funny and I think if I don't include both then one will get jealous. You know how men are. Sheesh. Cro has scintillating games like "guess what breed of dog" he has and "what came first, the lizard or the frozen egg." Also, he bakes. Ladies - I know! He's a catch! Alas, he is married to Lady Magnon but we can continue to worship him from afar.

Tulpen at Bad Words because no one else swears as much as her and is so funny in the process. And also heartwarming, but you don't want to hear all that mushy junk. You just want a laugh, right? Do I know you or what? No? Oh go feck yourself then. Way you go. Piss off.

And finally, I can't go without mentioning Daisy the Curly Cat because she's a cat and she has more followers than most of the human bloggers I know. She's a fashion model, she's a comedienne and, I dunno, she likes pink. So we have a lot in common, as you can see. Plus, before I had my surgery? She sent me a message and said her "purrs were with me." Purrs.. get it?

OH, and my surgery was tremendous. It was a MIRACLE! I can see, blessed mother of pearl, I CAN SEE! Thanks for all your brilliant wishes and purrs. I was all verklempt when I read them.