I lost Benny on Saturday evening. He died around 8.30pm.

I'm still sobbing as I write this, but I wanted to post this, because I acknowledge most things that happen in my life on here, and Benny should not be excluded from that.

These last few days have been awful. I've sobbed for hours on end. I don't expect everybody to understand, as even those who have cats can just see them as cats. Ben was far more than that to me. He was with me for 15 years, and after my Mum, Dad, and brother he was the one I cared about the most. Even when I'm 30 I will have spent more than half my life with him. I don't really remember a time without him, and the idea that he's gone is agonising. I've wanted to claw my skin off and just curl into a ball and weep and weep and sometimes I've done just that

I don't think I can find the words for it. Sometimes I'm crying and my mouth is open like I'm screaming, but nothing comes out.

I still look for him on my bed when I walk into my room. I still leave the bathroom door open just wide enough for him to sit between the door and the wall, like he loved doing. I expect him to walk into the kitchen and ask me for milk, or to curl up on the Primark bags I gave him. He loved them so much. If I hear a cat snoring in my parents room I think it's Ben. I shower and walk out of the bathroom and expect to see him on the landing, all curled up into a ball. I've left my bedroom door propped open for years, just for Ben, because he liked coming in here so often. I've closed it now. I only left it open for him, and now that he's gone I don't want any of the other cats in here.

I just keep thinking that it was Ben. Ben can't leave me.

I keep trying to hug him, but he's not there.

---------

I had less than 24 hours left with him when I came home from uni. My Dad couldn't pick me up on Friday night, so my Mum really didn't want me to come home as it meant she'd have to leave a party early to pick me up from the station. I insisted though, because I thought if anything happened to Ben and I hadn't chosen to come home that night, I'd have never forgiven myself. I'm glad I live my life like that.

My Mum picked me up and we stopped to buy dinner on the way home. When I got in, I could see Ben on the landing above me, his coat pushing through the bars. Sometimes I'll go straight up to him, but I went into the kitchen to have dinner, and a minute or two later he appeared! I picked him up and made a fuss over him, and then he sat with me during dinner. When my Dad got home Ben had to go for his pills, and I was just putting my things over the banister when I heard my Mum and Dad getting him. I wanted to ask them to stop, to wait until I was there to hold him, because I want to be there for him when he has to take his medicine, but I figured it would inconvenience them, and I could be there for the next night.

I got ready for bed and chatted to my Dad, then I went through to my parents room and stroked Ben, who had curled up into a ball underneath my Dad's side of the bed. I stayed there with him for a few minutes, before climbing into bed with my Mum to watch 'Theatreland' with her and my Dad. Ben stayed under the bed. When I went to leave, I asked if I should take Benny with me, and my parents said that he could stay, as they've been letting him sleep there more recently. So I went to my room, where I found Toddy curled up on my bed. I hate it when Toddy does this, because it means Benny will be able to smell him, and it takes him longer to get back to sleeping on my bed. I went to tell my parents, and I found Ben up and walking about. I scooped him up and held him in the special, cuddly way I always do, and as I took him out, I had him wave a paw at my Mum. I usually follow this by going over to her and having her stroke his tummy, but I didn't that night.

As much as I'd love to take Ben to my room, I put him down on the landing so he can decide what he wants to do. I'm just about to relent and let Toddy sleep in my room for one night - purely because he is clearly pining for my brother, who he has never been separated for such an extended period of time before - when Benny walks in. I don't know how I'm going to get Toddy off my bed without Benny seeing him. Instead, Benny has a drink from the red bucket used to refill Barbara's tank - something he often does - and I moved the measuring jug out of his way. Then he goes out. I feel sad, but I know that I have to be back for more than a week before Benny will start sleeping on my bed again, so I figure I have time still for him to get used to it. I go and lie with him on the landing for ages, just stroking him, and being glad that I'm with him again, before eventually going to bed. While lying there, I noticed that he's breathing a bit more heavily than usual, but I'd seen him breathe like this before, and it's always passed, so I don't say anything. Eventually, I drag myself away from him and go to bed. I stay up reading. I had almost decided to go and read next to Benny, but I was so tired that I figured I was only going to read one chapter. The book is so good though, that I keep on reading until it's light outside.

In the morning, my parents are calling for me to hurry up and get down to the car. I go and check my parents room for Benny, but can't find him anywhere. In hindsight, he was probably in my Dad's study.

I go with my Dad to collect my things from uni. We stop off at Tesco on the way back. Usually, whenever I walk past the Felix cat food, I say "Benny!" but I didn't that day. When we get home Benny is lying in the garden room, warm in the sun. He meows. Once I've finished unpacking the car I go and change into something else, then lie in the garden room and read my 'Hunger Games' book with Benny. He wandered into the kitchen, and I followed a few minutes later, just as my Mum calls for my Dad. She says Benny's breathing heavily, and he kinda is. I sit on the white step and watch him. He goes and has some 'pan', which is when he goes and licks the pan stand. He adores it. He rubs himself against the table leg. I call him over, and tell my Mum how Benny rarely comes when called (because he's his own cat) and that I am always extra pleased when he comes over to me. He comes over to me. I make a fuss of him. We go back into the garden room and I read some more. Benny stares out onto the sunlit garden. The weather changes, and it begins to rain. Then it begins to hail. I say "Do you like the hail, baby?" He wanders off. Eventually I go upstairs to see my Mum, figuring I should probably spend some time with her now that Benny's wandered off. I find him on the landing outside the bathroom, and crouch down next to him and stroke him so more.

Around 6.30pm my Dad comes in and says he thinks we should take Benny to the vets. He's been watching his breathing some more and is worried.

I get dressed and then come back to see Benny. He's in my parents room now. He goes over to his bowl and my Mum asks if he wants any treats. I'm unsure, because I don't want to aggravate anything if he's ill. He then walks under the dresser and pulls his bowl towards him with his paw. My Mum gives him treats. Emmy runs over so she gives her a bowl of treats. Emmy barely eats any before she walks off. Ben eats both bowls. He's so happy and chirpy.

I carry him downstairs and put him in his basket. I say he's just going on another adventure, and as I carry him out of the house I promise him that he'll come home. He cries out in his basket on the way to the vets. I don't cry. Last time it was something serious I didn't cry because I was sure he'd be fine. Then the last two times I took him to the vets I cried because I thought it was something awful and it wasn't. I thought to myself that because I wasn't crying, it would probably be something serious.

At the vets Karen checks him out. He trembles a little, but otherwise he's perfect. He's always so well-behaved. He actually purrs quite happily, and we remark on how he's always a happy boy - but I hold him and stroke him to comfort him anyway. She says there's fluid on his lungs again, but not as much as last time. She says his medicine dosage for that is really low, and so he's given a higher dosage while we're there. I start crying, and Karen asks if we've had Ben since he was a kitten. We say yes, and Karen says that means I've had him almost all my life, and then she hugs me and I'm still crying. She says she knows it's hard. She says no one is at the vets tonight, so we should take him home. She books an appointment for Benny on Monday morning. She says to make him happy, and let him eat whatever he wants.

We stop at Tesco on the way back, for my Mum to go and buy Benny some fish for dinner. I stroke Ben's paw. My Dad and I see the Tesco cat, and I feel guilty for even looking at it while Ben's with me. A man walks past the car, and Ben's eyes and head follow him, and he tries to keep watching him even when the man has walked past the sight-lines of the basket.

We go home, and my Dad lifts him out of the car and calls him "Ben-Gorgeous". He has so many nicknames, and this can be another one. My Dad lets him out inside the front door, and Ben looks back at him as he walks out. My Dad goes to put the basket in the yard, and I hang around by the front door until my Dad comes back, because I can't remember if he said to lock the door because he'd come in through the back door or not. He comes in through the front door and goes to shut the curtains in the garden room. I go into the kitchen and can't see Benny for a moment, before I realise he's using the litter tray. He comes out and sits down and I stroke him. My Mum rustles something, and I laugh as Ben gets up, thinking that he thinks it's food. He lies down, then gets up again, and I realise that's not it.

He gets up again and I ask my Mum if I can put my dinner in the oven before she cooks the fish, as I hate the smell of it. She says yes, so I go over to the fridge. As I do so, I see Benny move to under the table. Then he retches. Or not really. It's like he's trying to be sick. Instantly I'm at his side, and my Mum's calling my Dad down. Ben's tongue looks a different colour - not blue, like a lack of oxygen, but a deep dark reddy brown. Ben can't stop throwing his body back and looking like he's trying to be sick. I move aside for my Dad to look at him. Ben gets up and tries to go behind the armchair. My parents tell me to move it so we can see him, and I'm so angry because they just stand there and someone's propped some trays behind the chair and I hear them fall but I can't put the chair down to see what's happened because I don't know where Benny is and I don't want to put the chair on him. I yell at someone to see what's happened, and my Mum rushes forward to say that the trays have fallen on him. She picks them up and he moves again. He passes through the hall, and I don't remember if he sits down or goes straight into the garden room.

He lies under the cabinet, and constantly he's rolling his head and retching and making these sounds and I'm so scared. My Dad tells me to go and get some water, and for my Mum to put the fish in the oven. I go and pick up the blue water bowl in the pantry, and I notice it has hair from the other cats in. Ben won't drink milk if it has any hair in it, so I empty the bowl and refill it. I'm turning away and then I turn back, because I worry that it's not high enough for him to easily reach it, and I don't want him to strain. So I refill it, cursing how much time I'm taking.

He doesn't even notice the water. He starts to drool, and my Dad goes to get some tissue to wipe it for him. I stroke him gently. He gets up and moves away from me, and even though my heart breaks I know he doesn't want me bothering him right now. He moves to the rocking chair, and I don't realise at first, but he's lying across one of the curved legs of the rocking chair. There's no way he'd do that normally. It would hurt him too much. My Dad moves the rocking chair. I ask him if Ben's dying, already knowing the answer. He says he thinks so. I wish that pill would work.

My Dad calls the vets again, and Karen says that she hadn't like to say, but she'd thought Ben was on the homestretch. She said she'd thought he had a few days left. She said the pill wouldn't have had a chance to work yet. She said that when there was fluid on the lungs, sometimes cats would try and throw it up. She said she'd call again in half an hour.

Ben moved again, to under the piano stool. Coco tried to come in. We shut the door on her. Ben was still rolling his head, panting through his mouth, struggling to breathe. He moved under the garden room chair closest to the window. We sat there and watched him. I wanted him to keep fighting, to keep breathing. I didn't want to lose him. I wanted to stay calm, for him to not feel how upset I was, but I was crying. My Dad moved the chair after a few minutes, and lay down with Benny. Then he moved and told me to go to him. I lay there and stroked him paw. He was struggling so much, but I still, selfishly, wanted him to keep clinging to life. My Mum stroked his side.

When my Mum stopped stroking his side - his left, as he was lying on his right - I started stroking him there, while still softly stroking his paw with my left hand. He gasped again and became still. I started crying even more, and said I thought he was dead. His head jerked again and he gasped for breath, and then he became still. Then he did it again, and after that he didn't gasp any more.

I can't quite remember what happened next. I just cried. I remember thinking that he wasn't my Benny anymore, but also that he was. Karen called, and my Dad told her Ben had just died. She said she was sorry, especially for me, and told my Dad to give me a hug from her. I couldn't stop crying. I don't think I did for hours. My Mum went and fetched a box that I'd just unpacked the night before - when Benny had been in the room - from my Aunt in Missouri, full of presents for the Spring. My parents told me to go and pick out a blanket to wrap Benny in, but I couldn't comprehend making any decisions. They said to get a blanket of his, but he didn't have a particular blanket. He just slept on my bed. My Mum took me to the airing cupboard, and I just stood looking at all the towels and blankets with her. I think she realised I wasn't going to be able to make a decision, as she eventually picked out a brown one I don't remember having seen before, and said we could wrap Benny in it.

They lined the box with the towel, and then my Dad picked Benny up and cradled him. I think my Mum realised that I wanted to hold him one more time, and she told my Dad to let me before they settled him into the box. I held him and his head flopped a little, and I wanted to cry even more because Benny wasn't there to hold it up. I remember his soft little white neck. After a while my Dad took him from me once more and lay him in the box. Benny loved being curled up in tight spaces, and the box fit him perfectly.

I think I cried for hours over him. My parents sat with me. My Mum went to tidy away Ben's medicines and food. At some point, the timer for the fish she'd put in the oven for him went off. After a long time I went to the bathroom. I thought this would give my Dad time alone with him. When I came back I continued crying. My Mum said I could have Ben in my room that night, and I'm ashamed to say that the idea unnerved me at first. Then I felt ashamed. My Dad said we could put him somewhere else then, maybe among the things I'd brought back from uni. That made me even more ashamed, because Benny wasn't a thing. Benny was so much more than that, and he deserved so much more than that. I stroked him for hours.

Eventually my parents got me up to bed. My Dad carried Ben in his box. I pulled the box right up against my bed. My parents said I could sleep in their room if I wanted, with Ben, but really I wanted one more night with Ben. We spent so many nights together. I closed the door so the other cats couldn't get in, but also because it had only ever been open for him.

I cried some more. I talked to him, and stroked him, and sang to him. I used to sing 'You Are My Sunshine' and 'Happy Together' to him, so it felt right to do it again. Eventually I started reading. I felt bad doing that, but I'd started the book when Benny was alive, and I wanted to finish it while he was still with me. I looked at the part of the book I'd read with Benny in the garden room, specifically at the part where a cat was mentioned & I'd looked over at Ben, and then at the last bit I'd read before we'd taken him to the vets. 58 pages.

I finished the book, and then started the next one. I needed to keep on reading until I was so tired that I'd fall asleep without thinking.

When my parents woke me in the morning, I was crying instantly. I dressed in this black and white cardi and skirt that I always said meant I was dressing like Ben. My parents came in to see him. I carried him down to the car, and I was so glad that I'd been able to keep my promise, and that he'd been able to come home. I sat him on the seat I'd put the basket on the night before. There was still his hair on the seat. It must have come through the basket. I held the box on my knee after that.

At the vets, Karen gave me a hug. She said that if she could choose her way to go, she'd want to be at home, surrounded by her family. She started addressing the decisions to me, and I was glad, because it meant she recognised that Benny was mine. But I never liked saying Benny was mine. I used to say to him "I am yours, and you are mine", because I never saw myself as his owner.

She told us about the new pet cemetery they were using in Holywell, and how we could go down today to have him cremated, or they could come down and collect him. She said they were very respectful, and there was a little chapel where you could go and say goodbye, and you could stay with them to the very end. A part of me wanted to go, because I always promised Benny - time after time - that I would always stay with him, but another part of me couldn't bear the idea of having Benny one moment, and then the cremation the next. My parents thought the same too, but would do whatever I wanted. My Dad went and spoke to them on the phone, and asked for the plaque to read 'BEN'. Eventually I had to leave him there. The last bit I saw of him was his little left ear, and the little tuft of hair he has sticking up from it.

Needless to say, I continued crying. As it was Mother's Day, we went home & had a Sunday lunch. I was impressed with how little I managed to cry. Afterwards I went to bed and read. I then read all through the next day. To stop reading was to guarantee sobbing. I ended up having to plan everything carefully. I needed the bathroom, so I gave myself enough time to stop reading and not cry. Just as I got to my door, my phone rang. It was my Dad, with a message for my Mum. So I had to go and give her the message, but she was on the phone, so then I headed to the bathroom, and by the time I was in my room, brushing my teeth, I was sobbing. I'd taken too long. My Mum came and told me that Ben had just been cremated, and we could go down and collect his ashes the next day. I think the longest I managed to go without a book and not cry was 45 minutes.

On Tuesday she took me for lunch at The Boat Inn. We sat in the sun for a bit, but it got a little chilly. The succession of nice days we've had since Benny died have seemed cruel. I said to my Mum a month or two ago that I wanted Benny to be able to go out and play like he did in the summer. She said he could "When the Spring comes". I remember thinking that I wasn't sure if he'd still be with us then. I held it out as something he had to reach. Tuesday was the first official day of Spring. Ben died on the Saturday. But we've had some nice days already, and my Dad said he'd gone to the door to let Toddy in earlier in the week, and had found it was Ben! So really he did get to play out again, and he did make it to Spring.

The nice thing about the pet cemetery is that you can see people who loved the animals they lived with just as much as you do. It's hard when you're around people who don't. I know that most people won't understand what I'm going through, so I've just told people that someone I was close to, who I loved very much, passed away this weekend. Then they leave me alone and give me the time I need.

I was upset when we got Benny back. The box he was in wasn't like the ones I was used to, and you couldn't open it to see the ashes. I need that, I think. And the plaque didn't just have his name on it, like we asked, but the date he died and his age. That upset me too. They said we could order another box - I refuse to use the term 'casket' or 'coffin' from the place we used years ago, and the man at the desk ordered it while we were there. He then gave me a clear keyring with Benny's black and white fur in it. I already have a little bit of Ben's fur at home, taken on the night he died, but this keyring is amazing. I've barely let it go since I got it.

We went for a walk round the grounds after that, and a man who tended the place took us into the chapel and showed us where all the animals are placed before they are taken through to cremation, so that whoever needs to come and say goodbye to them can. He told us how 30,000 animals have passed through there, and that they had 10,000 visitors just last year. He told us about the people who had their ashes buried there with their animals, and about the elderly couple who came and visited their dogs every Tuesday and Thursday, and had sold their house and bought a bungalow down the road to be closer to them, because the two dogs were like their children. There were even horses buried there - one had lived to be 39. Seeing the ages that some people had lost their animals, I was pleased I had 15 years with Benny. I always want more though. I would always want more time with Ben.

I carry Ben in his box, or at least the keyring, wherever I am in the house now. I managed to on;y cry three times yesterday. Today I cried considerably more, and for lot longer periods. It's agonising.

His mummy, Abby, had another epileptic fit while I was writing this, and I freaked out. I was so scared. I called my Dad, glad that we live on campus and that he could come home. I think I just cried down the phone about what had happened. Benny loved his mummy so much. They would wash each other, and she would then bite his ear and cuff him over the head. He still loved her though. He used to flop down next to her for attention, and she'd walk off. It was very cute. And sometimes, when Abby had one of her fits, Ben would cheekily try to sneak over to her bowl to eat her food. They would often sit together, and turn their heads at the same time. We said they were like book ends.

My parents say I should write down everything I remember about Ben, or else I'll start to forget. I don't want to forget. I don't ever want to forget.

Losing Ben has been really, really hard. Like I said, after my Mum, Dad, and brother, he was the one I cared about and loved the most. 15 years is a long time, and for him to suddenly not be here . . .

I have a photo on my door. It says 'Your last mortal thought will be "Why did I take so many days, just like today, for granted?"', and I'm glad that I can truly say that I didn't take Benny's last day for granted, and that I didn't take Benny for granted. I love him, and I will always love him, and I hope that if I manage to live so long that I have dementia - though I really, really don't want dementia - I hope I can still remember him then, along with my Mum, Dad, and brother.

I love you, Ben.

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

Blood Rite Vol. 7

at Earthdom

2015/1/17(sat)

Hatred Raid

Retch

Marubullmen

Hazard

Sobbed

Taste

Sally peeked into the kitchen, nearly retched, and backed away in horror. She'd heard rumors about Chef Dumond but everything he made was too delicious for it to be true. But it was, and that meant that Sally actually liked Spam! This time she retched, and cried.

If I were you I'd really run from me

I'd really, really wish that I were you

When I get loose, I'll climb a tree

And drop a load on your head

This monster in me makes me retch, you messed it, messed it up

"...heavy rain, cold wind and strains of a man retching as we walked past his tent into KR. Bought food (coffee machine kaput) and munched on bench outside the store. After speaking to passing challengers - Lindy (Griffiths) resigned to her FWA, Marc (Kevers) on his wettest ever crossing - decided it would be wise to abandon our intended route by the back of Schiehallion and tramp the road."

Bournemouth's tethered balloon in lower park retches 400ft on a good day with panoramic views over Dorset.

Hand held at 1/15th.

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

Nowhere else have I seen so many religious protesters — I mean, I’ve seen groups this size at many Pride events, but never so many separate such groups scattered around one event. The vibe at Mardi Gras is a rather strange one, I must say: it’s ostensibly a religious observance — the local ABC affiliate during the Oscars kept showing clips of revelers with the slogan GOD BLESS LOUISIANA — and yet it’s famous for its unbridled debauchery. And yet again, I didn’t even see that much debauchery! I did kind of get the sense that there may have been recent efforts to make the whole thing to some degree more wholesome, although when it comes to the drinking, I’d say that was met with limited success. I did see more than one person bend over in the street, retching with evident intent to vomit (which, thankfully, did not happen) -- people would gather round to watch. Where else in the world do you find both Jesus freaks and vomit as entertainment on the same street?

We did also see, at one point, two separate groups walking single file down the sidewalks on either side of the crowded Bourbon Street, singing hymns.

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

Use this image without my permission is illegal. All Rights Reserved ste.t.©

A-well-a everybody's heard about the bird

B-b-b-bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, the bird is the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, well the bird is the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, well the bird is the word

A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, well the bird is the word

A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a don't you know about the bird?

Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word!

A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a...

A-well-a everybody's heard about the bird

Bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird, bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a don't you know about the bird?

Well, everybody's talking about the bird!

A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word

A-well-a bird...

Surfin' bird

Bbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb... [retching noises]... aaah!

Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-

Pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-ooma-mow-mow

Papa-ooma-mow-mow

Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

Oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow

Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-oom-oom-oom

Oom-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

Papa-a-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow

Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow

Papa-oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow

Oom-oom-oom-oom-ooma-mow-mow

Ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

Papa-ooma-mow-mow, ooma-mow-mow

Well don't you know about the bird?

Well, everybody knows that the bird is the word!

A-well-a bird, bird, b-bird's the word

Papa-ooma-mow-mow, papa-ooma-mow-mow

the Trashmen

surfin'bird

I've been trying evil experiments on people. See, I came upon these Vanilla Clif Shots via a cirquitious route. And I think they are just palatable enough to not retch, but they do the job and I didn't pay for them. But nobody likes 'em.

The problem is that the vanilla isn't strong enough to drown out the rice syrup taste. Gu vanillas aren't nearly as nasty tasting.

Later on, I fed him another brand of gels, which he liked more. That took coaxing. And then I fed him some of my experimental blueberry muffins, which was probably even better.

I talked therider into going on a Wirehead Long Ride.

What's a Wirehead Long Ride? Well, generally it involves going off-road for at least part of it. It's gotta involve a good hard climb, and a good fast descent. It's taken at a decent enough pace that you realize that you covered some real distance, but not too fast. Starting and stopping for pictures is totally OK. It has to start and end at home. And it's gotta be self-supported, where the people riding take enough spares that there's little chance of needing to call for a ride home. So, a little bit like a randonnee, but shorter. And with some off-road time for good measure.

Now, I'd been taunting him about his motorcycling, pointing out that, while his Goldwing gets 38mpg, there *are* no skinny motorcyclists. (actually, that's a lie and I know it. For example, Piyush is perfectly skinny) I mean, the Goldwing has reverse because it's too hard to back out, so you don't even get exercise manhandling the motorbike that's big enough to have air conditioning on it. And so I coaxed him into biking to work, although his trip across the country kinda put a stop to that for a while. And then I coaxed him into an abbreviated version of one of my long rides.

Oh, and the trunk bag I carry came in handy. I was feeding Joy so he wouldn't bonk. One guy was riding down the mountain and asked if we had a chain tool (I've got two... one on the multitool and a Park tool) And then I took a little bit of a spill because I forgot that a 26x1.5 slick doesn't have quite enough grip on trails when inflated to 80psi, so I dabbed it with antiseptic. And then I got some carryout for Mrs. Wirehead, so I expanded it so it would all fit.

Lori has traveled a LONG way in search of Miss Emily's School for Excellence. She had heard about it a long time ago when she first set off on her journey to rid herself of her retched magical powers.

She had the Ability to see far into someones future which in it's self doesn't sound too bad but If she sees something terrible happen in that persons impending future her eyes catch alight.

She has always been able too see other peoples upcoming futures and she has always felt the searing pain of fire. The first time her eyes ever came ablaze they turned from pale blue to coal black and never let the light in again leaving her completely blind.

When her eyes catch fire she is left with painful blisters over her face which take on a gold shimmery effect almost making them look like scales in which people started to nickname her Dragon. After a few days they disappear as if they where never there.

She carries around a old branch to help her find her way and to insure she doesn't accidentally bump into someone and be forced into a Foresight Trance which could result in ALOT of pain.

She has tried many methods to rid herself of these powers but nothing has ever worked until she heard the whispers about the school which strips magical powers from oneself.

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

I rarely drink beer and The Maths Captain invariably dry retches after the first sip - but despite this I received a beer brewing kit from him for Christmas 2014. We bottled our first brew - a standard Coopers Brewery Lager - in January and in April I mislabelled the bottles that we gave to a friend for their 40th.

In Australia homebrew is totally normal - but here in Austria people either thought we were idiots or akin to crazy gods.

Desi Mo of DGAV, Retch, and Aston Matthews

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

Schtrieler, one that stays out all night and then sleeps most of the day. A Male. Shlemiel comes maybe close to the meaning of this Swiss term, if not exact. A tired Pretty Kitty, is what he is.I guess he did not want to listen to the wretched retching of what might be my new neighbor's (long term?) guest, neither did I, but...

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

I think i should work as a model ...

Big up to the Asselbande !

Stephen Murray

Stephen Murray was the recipient of an SSW Production Residency, in partnership with Embassy Gallery, Edinburgh, where work developed during the residency was exhibited

in February, 2006.

‘The greasy column sits atop of their shoulders. They oblige but not without retching "we hold aloft, we hold aloft we are holding it aloft" Medallions sit on the walls, the face and the horns.’

image: 'We hold aloft' from 'Wrought, Raised and Forged' installation at embassy Gallery, Edinburgh.

The retched remains of a once proud leaf. 4/16/2021

Salam aleikum,

Click the notes to see where i took the pictures (Wikipedia)!

The Sleeping Watchman

By Josh Thoreson

Wakening from a dream yet slumbering still,

I stumble from my humble croft.

Naught but a scraggly beard and a few curds,

as I long to steel myself from this cold.

The noble priest a holy fire lights,

ought to warm the soul yet I am ever weary.

As ever I trod to toil among scholars n’ scrolls

witches, three, perched as harpies upon catacombs.

As I plod I disturb a holy dove in its nest

this omen I know bears ill fate.

Yet what fate in the omen of a cougar

with the carcass of skunk in its broken jaw?

Fortune cookies in Chinatown,

bearing promise of sunshine n’ happiness.

Fleeting hope quickens the soul on a

wide avenue betwixt synagogue and church.

The death of a Prince and the bill will come

as the blooms wither and fall.

Tumbling down, tumbling down.

Taste of sucking gall and sour cud.

I long to retch but have not the strength,

to clear the befouled drain.

I seek to tear down this wall but alas

the forefathers are standing on my toe.

These are medium-size Agaricus mushrooms in the woods growing from a bed of grass-like of (I think) Roundfruit Sedge (Carex globosa) in the Cyperaceae plant family, which does very well in our canyon. I took a bigger bite than I should have, and retched for 5 minutes! It has a strong phenolic taste. It doesn't have a fibrillose cap, but I reckon it is the Felt-Ringed Agaricus (Agaricus hondensis) mushroom with that distinctive thick ring that stands out from the stalk. Live and learn! (San Marcos Pass, 6 December 2012)

The local woodland Agaricus species are a pretty risky group in my experience.

Title suggested on twitter by @drjuliegill. I don't know why, because this sounds like the worst of all possible food items.

follow me on twitter and perhaps you too may be able to contribute a pic of the day theme! (@cganders)

As my boys have been under the weather, I thought some nip could help :)

and apparently did .

UPDATE :

MM is much better , actually he is rolling on the floor as I type, I removed the collar since the wound seems so much better, he is coughing a little now though.

Georgie : he kept on vomiting during the night, I dont think any of us got much sleep, but in the morning he was nauseous again and I saw a tiny piece of grass showing from his nose ! I tried to remove it and it was actually quite large ! he has not retched after that, so I guess that was what was making him so uncomfortable.

X-Ray results not ready yet, Im taking them both for check up tomorrow 6pm

( when I can find both vets at once at the clinic ) THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SUPPORT AND PRAYERS, they help me go through the day xox :)

Lobated Duck

For a naturalist, Archibald is a terrible shot;

one would think he missed deliberately.

All manner of ducks he sent up in flurries,

and not one feather dropped, until the lake

was flat and empty. Nothing stirred, but then

this great, squat lump, with an ugly wattle

under its bill, drifted out from the reeds,

ten feet away. Archie swallowed; I saw

his Adam’s apple twitch. With all of us

watching, he had no choice; even then

he fumbled loading, but it paddled closer,

point-blank, more or less, and that was

an end to it. Dredged onto the boat,

the stink hit us instantly. “Throw it back!”

someone bellowed, but Archibald would

have none of it. “Absolutely fascinating,”

he said, as the stench penetrated,

and all hands clapped handkerchiefs

to faces simultaneously. By God, you

would have shuddered to see the Cap’n’s

face turn thunder-coloured as Archie

lumped the thing aboard the Discovery,

and hardened seamen ducked for cover,

pinching their noses and retching. They say

the Cap’n’s steward will cook anything

and season it with weevils, but he took

one sniff and ran for it, and that night

it seemed even the salt beef had partaken

of the stench. Slops and sails stunk of it

for weeks - a rank funk of musk – but still

the skin is Archie’s prize possession:

hangs like murder just above his bunk.

Poem by Giles Watson, 2014. Picture: The Naturalist’s Miscellany, written by George Shaw and illustrated by Frederick Polydore Nodder, published in twenty-two volumes between 1789 and 1813, Volume 8. Archibald Menzies, naturalist and surgeon on Vancouver’s expedition, shot a Musk Duck on a lake (possibly Lake Seppings) near Albany, Western Australia. In Vancouver’s own words, “though ducks were in great numbers, we were very unsuccessful in taking them. A very peculiar one was shot, of a darkish grey plumage, with a bag like that of a lizard hanging under its throat, which smelt so intolerably of musk that it scented nearly the whole ship.” See Penny Olsen, Upside Down World: Early European Impressions of Australia’s Curious Animals, Canberra, 2010, p. 132.

The next class is at 5 pm. Greta comes into the lobby., she isBeat leading from the lip and head, she is crying and shaking fiercely). John is in the gym lobby, he saw Greta, she is a mess.

John said: (Greta), he went over and asked: (are you ok Princess)? She starts crying and said: (no). Greta is shaking.

John said: (follow me). Greta follows John outside, he said: (I have a medical supply bag in the car, you are all bloody and banged up). Greta follows John to the car, he said: Greta sweetheart, tell me what happened).

Greta said: (masked man pushed me onto the ground, drags me into a small quiet alley, he tore my dress as you see, he fondled me and felt me all over, he rasped me, he told me not to tell anyone, he clubbed my leg right at the kneecap, not hard, just enough to make it red, he had a familiar voice). Greta is visibly shaken, and sobbing. John said: (you are ok. I will put ice on you knee)., he gets an ice pack, he presses down on it and shakes it, the pack was ready for use, he wraps it in a face cloth and tapes it closed he said: (the ice should get the swelling down). Greta said: (you carry face cloths)? John said: ( I bought quite a few of them, they stay in the trunk. I have a flat storage case with over 100 of them). Greta looks in the trunk, she then

Turned her head.

John said: (you are staying with me. I can't let all the other girls see you like this). Greta sobs: (why did that monster hurt me like this)? Greta loses it, she yells: (DAMN IT)!!! John said : (calm down, getting freaked out won't help the situation, it will only make it worse). John calls Whitney. Greta goes into the gym.

John goes after her, he finishes the call. John said: (Princess Whitney is sending some clothes over here, follow me to the registration office, we can talk in there).

Greta follows John to the office, he texted Sabrina, one of the gymnasts and told her what happened, and asked her to watch

Over the class for the rest of the hour. John watches for Biff, who's bringing the clothes to the gym.

Biff gets WTO the gym within 15 minutes, he hands the clothes to John, he said: (thank buddy. I owe you one). Biff said: (see you at home my son), he patted John's cheek and left. John goes to the office, he said: :(the clothes are here, you can change into them). Greta went into the single bathroom inside the office, she changed clothes, and bagged the outfit she was wearing a minute ago, she comes out, sat down and starts sobbing.

John goes over and said: (one of my gym princesses, raped. I'm

So sorry about what happened, he takes Greta's hand and said: (I know one thing, you feel dirty, and yes, your rights were violated, you coulden't say know if he jumped you and pinned you down, that wasen't fair to you.i love you like a little sister, it really hurts to see you like this, but you will get through it. I'm here for you always. I'll help you deal with this), he closed the door to the office. Greta said: (oh John, it's all my fault. I should haven been able to help myself). John goes over to a sobbing Greta, he said: ( don't blame yourself little darling, you coulden't do anything).

Greta said: (I feel dirty inside). John said: ( you need to go to the ER, just to be sure there are no injuries, and you need a rape kit done). John calls an ambulance. Greta cries: (I want that monster caught). John said: (an ambulance is coming, there is just pulling out of a donut shop). Greta said: (thank you. I really think going to the hospital is a good ides. I'm just so angry). John said: (I know, you were traumatized by what happened).

An ambulance pulls up, 2 EMTs come on, the tall blonde EMT said: (hello there. I'm Mike, my partner here is Floyd, we will be taking care of you dear). Great a starts crying as she said: (hi guys,I'm Greta Plotts). John said: (it' ok). John takes Greta's hand and squeezes).

Floyd said: (if you can tell us what happened, that would be a big help). Greta said: (I was walking on Whopper Street, when some pyscotic bastard wearing a mask pushed me down and raped me). Mike said: (oh, that's awful. I'm so sorry to hear that.

Great a said: (John), he squeezes Greta's hand and said: ( I'm right here sweetie, calm down everything will be fine).

Mike said: (put yet retch your arm out honey.), he took her blood pressure' he said: (your blood pressure is high, that may be because you just had a horrible thing happen to you). Mike said: (honey, you need to go to the hospital, do you need the stretcher)? Greta said: (no). Mike said: (ok, in that case, come with us). Greta got up, she went to the ambulance with the EMTs..

Greta grabs John's hand and said: (don't leave me). John said: (it's ok. I'll go too), he texted Maureen, the gymnastics director asks her to have Rachael drive the car to the hospital, she's the only gymnast that drives right now.

Floyd is in the back, he said: (greats, calm down, everything will be fine). Greta holds John's hand and cries. Floyd strokes her forehead and said: (sweetie, relax, you are not going to be attacked again). He rubs Greta's shoulder and said: (I know, you feel like you were violated because you are weak, it's a normal feeling, relax sweetie).

Finally, the ambulance pulls up to the ER, Floyd and Mike roll her to a free curtain, the EMTs said: (god luck, and be strong), they went to the ambulance.

John calls Greta's. Parents while she is being treated, then he goes to the cafe and has a snack before talking to Greta's parents.

Gavin gags at the sight of the earwax on James Buckley's headphones.

The meat is VERY good, but the fatty top is retch-worthy. Sorry.

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

Meaning of disgorge in Hindi

SYNONYMS AND OTHER WORDS FOR disgorge

उगलना→excrete,spit out,disgorge,pour,spue,belch वमन करना→retch,vomit,disgorge,spue छीनी हुई वस्तु को लौटाना→disgorge छांट करना→disgorge छोडना→disgorge,loosen,Emit उगल देना→disgorge निकाल देना...

Meaning of disgorge matlab, meaning disgorge hindi, synonyms disgorge hindi

#DisgorgeMatlab, #MeaningDisgorgeHindi, #SynonymsDisgorgeHindi

Where's the loo; I'm gonna retch.

I don't know what is the most amusing thing about this picture taken at the Utah Arts Festival: The guys's hair, his Ron Perlman visage and expression, the woman in front looking like she is retching for a prolonged vomit, or the fact that Robert Deniro stopped by to watch it all.

The pastel hippie is playing the Earth Harp, an installation at the Festival. Basically it is strung from his base (which you can almost see) to a high point at the SLC Public Library. The artist lets the crowd come up and give it a try after he plays a set.

2014/06/07(sat)

Asshole Carnival Vol.2

at Earthdom

ANAL VOLCANO

Mecosario (岡崎)

Retch

GO-ZEN

SAIGAN TERROR

ZENOCIDE

DJ : LOVEJUICE

Great trip, Iceland rocks!

11:51 am today. Phone beeps. Text message. “The older guy over the back and around the corner is dead on his floor, might have there a week :(”

The scary part is that I don’t find it that hard to imagine there are people who have so little contact with others that no one notices them disappear. At work I often hear that one of the key issues people who are homeless or extremely disadvantaged face, is social isolation. There is a campaign at the moment - hush for homelessness - centered around that very theme.

One of my work colleagues must have a strong network of friends. He and another girl have committed to stay silent for 3 hours as part of the hush campaign. So far she has about $200 in sponsorship and people have pledged around $2000 for him. Perhaps he’s someone who talks too much

4:42pm - my friend, whose neighbour has died, says to me - there are all these blowflies. I can see them near the window.

Cat cuddles all afternoon. I love a good cuddle from my girls. There is just so much of them - to - cuddle.

I pick up some fairy wings and drive 3 minutes up the road to see my neice. I arrive to find her dressed like a mermaid with a tiara on her head. Her face lights up when she sees the wings. I ask her, does she know what happens a week before her birthday. She says no. I said, it’s my birthday a week before yours. I explain that I had a fantastic present this year from a good friend. I tell her that someone made a fuss on me. I ask her whether for her birthday she’d like to pick her favourite costume; I’ll curl her hair; we can go to the park and take photos. To my delight she thinks this is just the antz pantz. So next Saturday afternoon is dress-up day for her birthday.

7:30pm. Phone rings. Friend says, just caught someone trying to break into my neighbours house and steal his stuff. Smell is horrendous - makes you dry-retch. I called the police.

I hang up and wonder about these opportunists. What drives people to go into the house of someone recently departed; and discovered; and withstand the smell and the flies… for what?

10:30pm. Have to remove cat from lap so can prepare for bed. I scoop her up and transfer her to the washing basket. Saffron tolerates the transfer and Licorice joins me by the keyboard; telling the story of my day.