Will be awesome to see some happening affiliates lining up in a row with their merch on!
https://cbdsky.com/?ref=shellparker2010%40hotmail.com
Sunday, 27 January 2019
Click here for 10% off - use sky10off at the checkout
Just one drop, is one too many, left in a bottle for CBD oil. Solution?
As pictured.
Get your CBD oil right HERE. Use SKY10Off for 10% off!
Just one drop, is one too many, left in a bottle for CBD oil. Solution?
As pictured.
Get your CBD oil right HERE. Use SKY10Off for 10% off!
Saturday, 19 January 2019
A Fish Out of Water
When Snowy and Ranga came home, I was very excited about having them. Within a week, Snowy was dead, and the pulse of the pump had pushed him up behind the cannister, that bubbled out life to the tank's inhabitants.
I was a bit down hearted, but not surprised; because this was my new pet experience.
A mistake I made was putting Snowy in the bin for collection. As he dried, and withered away in there, the smell was 1000 times his little frame.
I mentioned casually to my house friend person, "can you smell Snowy in the bin? He looks like fish jerky". Well, that was NOT the thing to say. Snowy was the house friend/person's fish.
Back to the Pet Shop.
The staff at the pet shop simply do not blink an eye, when you enter the building and declare that your pet fish is dead. It did remind me of how Snowy, and his tank mate, Ranga don't blink.
This time, I decided a robust breed - a goldfish - was the order of the day. I mean, these types lived easily in natural waterways, eating the native fauna, and proliferating and ruining the natural environs eating everything in sight. I think?
Lincoln was a smart looking fish. Very sleek, well shaped. After Lincoln moved into the tank, I had to move house. My fishkeeping was slapped back into nervous mode. Questions of transportation flicked over my mind at night. I wrestled with thoughts of batteries pumpin life giving bubbles into their environment en route to my new home, some three hours in transit. Would they need ice cubes? I didn't know.
Moving day.
The Big Day had arrived. Frankly, I didn't give a shit anymore. I didn't care if the furniture fell out of the truck, or if the plants catapaulted out of the trailer onto the highway. I did not care if the fish floated breathlessly to their new home. As far as I was concerned, the fact they were not in the toilet was very generous.
We made it to our new home. Now, I waited expectantly for corpses to greet me each morning. With my coffee cup steaming in my hand, I broached the corner of the tank with searching concern in my eyes. "Nope, not dead" I would think to myself, and make some weird little muttering noises to myself.
I carried this burden for some three months, give or take a day or so. During this time, I watched as Lincoln, grew quickly, and became larger than Ranga, the resident comet and elder of the tank. And I kept watching. Lincoln, the arsehole, was on a mission from Bruce. He was chasing Ranga down...on the hunt. Needless to say, I was incredulous at this animals lack of gratitude. After all the feeding, nurturing...and now he was trying to kill the very fish that accepted him into his home.
Moving On.
The constant pursuit to kill his kindred was too much for me to bear. I could not let a newcomer kill Ranga. As such, Lincoln was deftly netted, and flung into the backyard fountain pond thing. I considered him daily, to see if he was ill, or even dead. But no.
Solitude.
Now, Ranga was not being harrassed, but was moving furtively around the tank. Was he nervous? Anxious? Lonely? I decided as he was a fish, having to have the school characteristic deeply intrenched in his fish roots, that he must need a friend. Hello Pet shop.
New beginnings.
As a plopped the new fishy friend into Ranga's calming waters, I smiled thinking, knowing, I had solved the fish issues that had been plaguing the residence. A new calm licked invitingly about my concsience. Actually no, that was the dog licking my foot. But I could sleep easier.
New Hierachy.
Disturbingly, after little under a week, I observed Ranga chasing Sebastian, the newbie, furtively around the tank. On and on it went. I was disgusted. The very behaviour that I saved him from, he was not executing with absolutely no consideration of the hypocrisy. I didnt wait. The net was in and out of the water before anyone could say, "Jack Robinson" and he too, joined the great outdoors....with Lincoln.
C'est La Vie.
The cycle continues. The sun rises, the sun sets. I still have little idea on what fish behaviour is, but I do know that they are alive. I like to believe that they are happily alive. I check every day, expecting a floater, but no. Everything is a dream boat in the fish pond.
Friday, 18 January 2019
CherrybombSKY: The Doors
CherrybombSKY: The Doors: When One Door Closes.... You must have heard this from family, friends, the dude at the deli counter. But why? It does not offer anyth...
CherrybombSKY: Sweet & Innocent, like an aubergine?
CherrybombSKY: Sweet & Innocent, like an aubergine?: Whatever. Im not even sure how I could ever intergrate this sexy fruit into my everyday diet. I say sexy, because "aubergine" br...
Thursday, 17 January 2019
Sweet & Innocent, like an aubergine?
Whatever.
Im not even sure how I could ever intergrate this sexy fruit into my everyday diet. I say sexy, because "aubergine" breathed out in a sexy, slightly french accent makes the fat purple thing sound exotica.
And yet, I am stunned to find that the fruit of subject is called the "king of vegetables" and pinned awkwardly at the top of the pop vegie culture charts across the world.
The Romans believed aubergine to be poisonous – it’s not, by the way – and called it mala insana, literally, the apple of insanity. The name stuck – melanzana is Italian for aubergine – but the suspicion did not, and nowadays, it’s hard to deny that when properly cooked, aubergine is something special. It becomes wonderfully savoury with a hint of natural smokiness that makes it an excellent meat alternative for vegetarians - apparently. That is not how I experience it. Ever.
You may ask, "why blog about it?" Well, the fact remains, that I toy with the ideas of introducing this ingredient into my existing recipe regime. Stacks of gloop that slop onto something else, with chopped tomatoes and onions (of course). Maybe bacon would help with the effect. Another fact: the few aubergines that have made it to my crisper, have decomposed there. I think twice they were converted, and the household consumers of the typical fayre made it clear that aubergine hidden in normal food would not be tolerated. Ever. Again.
The colour is seductive, the skin is besotting, the curves....oh la la!
But the final nail in the egg plant's coffin came today, just now, on Instagram.
And the image, is burnt into my mind's eye.
I have to explain it. A young, dark gent, with his thighs spread, using an egg plant emoji to cover his nether regions. On further research, the eggplant emoji is emoji language for representing a penis.
Luckily, there are now aubergine flavoured condoms to don the wanna-be eggplant emoji toters...you can now go the whole eggplant, you lucky things, you!
The aubergine is dead. Unfollowed. Unfriended. Deleted.
Im not even sure how I could ever intergrate this sexy fruit into my everyday diet. I say sexy, because "aubergine" breathed out in a sexy, slightly french accent makes the fat purple thing sound exotica.
And yet, I am stunned to find that the fruit of subject is called the "king of vegetables" and pinned awkwardly at the top of the pop vegie culture charts across the world.
The Romans believed aubergine to be poisonous – it’s not, by the way – and called it mala insana, literally, the apple of insanity. The name stuck – melanzana is Italian for aubergine – but the suspicion did not, and nowadays, it’s hard to deny that when properly cooked, aubergine is something special. It becomes wonderfully savoury with a hint of natural smokiness that makes it an excellent meat alternative for vegetarians - apparently. That is not how I experience it. Ever.
You may ask, "why blog about it?" Well, the fact remains, that I toy with the ideas of introducing this ingredient into my existing recipe regime. Stacks of gloop that slop onto something else, with chopped tomatoes and onions (of course). Maybe bacon would help with the effect. Another fact: the few aubergines that have made it to my crisper, have decomposed there. I think twice they were converted, and the household consumers of the typical fayre made it clear that aubergine hidden in normal food would not be tolerated. Ever. Again.
The colour is seductive, the skin is besotting, the curves....oh la la!
But the final nail in the egg plant's coffin came today, just now, on Instagram.
And the image, is burnt into my mind's eye.
I have to explain it. A young, dark gent, with his thighs spread, using an egg plant emoji to cover his nether regions. On further research, the eggplant emoji is emoji language for representing a penis.
Luckily, there are now aubergine flavoured condoms to don the wanna-be eggplant emoji toters...you can now go the whole eggplant, you lucky things, you!
The aubergine is dead. Unfollowed. Unfriended. Deleted.
The Doors
When One Door Closes....
You must have heard this from family, friends, the dude at the deli counter.
But why?
It does not offer anything, but an acknowledgement from the recipient with a nod, or a sigh, or an obligatory "ah, yes". But not for the understanding of which door has been shut, or the one that
may open, but more for the fact that I have heard that bloody phrase all my life. WHAT. THE. CLUCK??
And yes, this is all relative, as I was speaking with a friend today about life and its foibles. I inadvertently thought to myself, "one door shuts, another opens...". How and why was that even helpful?
Who is to blame for this? Why, as a culture, are these shitty words knowingly shared as a reason for something ending?
I had to investigate. Yes, Google to the rescue. Could it actually be possible that people around the world have asked the question, "what is the saying when one door closes?"
The answer: of course (what was I thinking).
Alexander Graham Bell apparently said this quote, but, as many things are, there is more the the quote. The collective "us" have shortened it to just a few words as we all seem to know what it means...but do we??
Naturally, I suspected, that it would be wordy and depressing, expressing hopelessness and territories unexplored.
I was right.
The quote by Mr Bell actually reads:
"When one door closes another door opens,
but we so often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door,
that we do not see the ones which open for us."
But then, there is the bibilical reading about God being part of the door slamming
process - if this is the case, has the proverbial door been shut for our own good?
I also noticed that Helen Keller has included general "happiness" involved in the gazing at shut doors, and failing to notice open ones.
I am more inclined to view it like this: if the door is closed, either have a girl look for the keys, or go find a door that's open.
Monday, 14 January 2019
The Cat's Hole
Now that I have your attention.
A Cat's Hole could mean so many things.
And a Cat has holes, just like their humans; ear holes, nose holes, mouth hole, arsehole...they are all holes, destined for a particular function. Just like a human.
Wikipedia says, " A cathole or cat hole or sometimes pighole is a pit for human feces. Catholes are frequently used for the purpose of disposing of bowel movements or waste water by hikers and others engaging in outdoor recreation."
I mean, I didn't know that until I Googled it. And, I simply would not have considered that hikers refer to bowel movement holes as cat or pig holes.
Wow, people have actually asked, "How deep should a cat hole be?"Im intrigued.
The answer?
" In most locations, dig a cathole 6-8 inches deep and 4-6 inches inches in diameter".
What's' that in metric?
Anyway, my appetite for Cat's Hole is now piqued - what next? Is this the end of my plain thought on my original thoughts for this blog?
Yes! It seems so. People have actually asked how to make a Cat Hole.
A Cat's Hole could mean so many things.
And a Cat has holes, just like their humans; ear holes, nose holes, mouth hole, arsehole...they are all holes, destined for a particular function. Just like a human.
Wikipedia says, " A cathole or cat hole or sometimes pighole is a pit for human feces. Catholes are frequently used for the purpose of disposing of bowel movements or waste water by hikers and others engaging in outdoor recreation."
I mean, I didn't know that until I Googled it. And, I simply would not have considered that hikers refer to bowel movement holes as cat or pig holes.
Wow, people have actually asked, "How deep should a cat hole be?"Im intrigued.
The answer?
" In most locations, dig a cathole 6-8 inches deep and 4-6 inches inches in diameter".
What's' that in metric?
Anyway, my appetite for Cat's Hole is now piqued - what next? Is this the end of my plain thought on my original thoughts for this blog?
Yes! It seems so. People have actually asked how to make a Cat Hole.
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