The title of this blog comes from a Gaelic expression -"putting on the poor mouth"-which means to exaggerate the direness of one's situation in order to gain time or favour from creditors.
Fabric and folds. *squints* Ooh, and a dolphin.
This looks better enlarged.. I had faces appearing out of the weave when I first played with it.
I see poorly executed ironing. You letting standards slip Jams?
What's to say it wasn't a used one Andrew!
I see someone walking towards me with a rose and a bottle of champagne. I don't see the date....But I'm rushing to the hairdresser right now!
And I see that Claude is back at the table for another feast and more booze. Good for you Claude. Cheers!
And Re: "What's to say it wasn't a used one Andrew!" What?! Jams displaying his dirty linen in public? In that case standards have slipped even further and faster than I feared. get a grip on yourself man.
Maybe it's just the mood I'm in, but it looks like one of those horrid metal sieves!
What sort of mood makes Ruth think of "horrid metal sieves"? What sort of mood makes Ruth think that sieves are "horrid" for that matter. What goes on inside Ruth's head? As for me, after further consideration, I think it looks like the neat gridblock structure of the capital city of Vega27x's 3rd planet when viewed from about 150 miles away on final approach to landing at the spaceport, just discernable top right to those who know what to look for, but I expect this clear resemblance is just one of these striking coincidences that make some people think there is more to this world than meets the eye.
Go get him Claude!She's back and she's bad Andrew! I can assure you that it was a perfectly clean, linen handkerchief that was deliberately ruffled for the purpose of the photo... I do have standards, honest!Ah mercifully not Ruth
Wow Andrew That is one heck of a case of cosmic pareidolia. I salute you!
No Jams, I salute you, for you have caught the contours of the geography with its built upon valleys and slopes just perfectly. You may have mystic powers that others from far away could put to some modest use. I'll put in a good word for you, since you are currently free of petty Earthly work concerns and perhaps up for a spot of free travel.
Wow I never kew I was any good at remote viewing. Well I do have a few months on my hands so a trip would be appreciated... just so long as that doesn't mean a probe for god measure
"a probe for god measure", eh? For "god" measure... That's either a typo or you have ideas above your station. Anyway, bad news (but rather interesting news): I spoke to my little friends and they said "Jams? Jams! We're not taking him on board if even half of what Boris has told us about him is correct." Oh well... At least it explains the extravagantly ginger cat that I see sitting at the top table on occasion. I did think I heard him say once, "the daft fool thinks I'm just across the road visiting the mastif".
So Boris is an agent for your ET friends and the Izzy visits are just a cover? The little tinker.... Then again why should anything a cat does surprise me!
I thought that Andrew had renounced our world and had either silenced himself or been silenced for a while. Ah! well...He just envy my always half full bottle of French wine.I wouldn't follow the great Scott scientist if I were you, Jams. He'll probably put you to work at some impossible tasks. Enjoy your holiday in your garden if your four furry masters allow you.
Silenced and hidden my blog posts Claude (for a while, and for specific reasons), not silenced my comments. A man has to have some insanity at the end of the day to keep him sane, I find, and Jam's place is a good place to find it :)
Or even Jams' place, or perhaps Jams's place. Misplaced apostrophes are a shocking lapse d'ont you think?
An always half full bottle of French wine? send over one with Cote Rotie and I will be your servant for ever Claude!I'm glad to see that you find the level of sanity here suitably low. That is heartening.As for your own blog. I look forward to its return Andrew
Cheers to all sane, insane inhabitants of Jam's net...That's what it is, isn't? A fishing net, and you caught us all, Jams!
I've tried but I can't see Jesus. On the other hand there is a trace of Lenin.
Infinity and a web of deceit!
Chain mail? A sack serving as a cat-carrier?anciche? This comes from the word verification thing on the off-chance...
There is no escape from my web Claude.. NO ESCAPE MWUAHAHAHAHAH!Haha Liz, I provide a template for Pareidolia and not one Jesus!Wow Knatolee, that is impressive!Ah so the word verification revealed the true identity, Snoopy!
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