tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-83191569481755630062024-03-13T14:29:33.277+00:00I'm A DragonDragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.comBlogger13125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-50247964135332451632012-05-02T20:11:00.003+01:002012-05-02T20:17:11.581+01:00Return from Holiday<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I'm all for holidays. As long as I can find someone to feed the gold while I'm gone, I enjoy two weeks spent in relaxation and hotpants as much as the next giant lizard. And as long as the next giant lizard is a kind of hybrid of salamander and Kylie Minogue, that's lots. </div>
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There are, however, a couple of things I'm not so fond of. One would be flying. Which is weird, because I actually do that all the time, and if I worked out more, I could probably have flown by myself. I don't charge as much for luggage and I get all the leg-room I want, although on the downside there are no hideously overpriced plastic cups of alcohol. But there wouldn't be the sheer panicked terror of being in a metal tube. </div>
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See, I understand how I fly. The wings move, I go up. I find a comfortable air current and I float on it until I gently touch down in an area where people are unlikely to scream and scatter at the sight of me. Aeroplanes are metal tubes. They don't even flap their wings with sufficient force, and all the air stewards are brainwashed into smiling placidly as they explain that if it plummets to the ground, oxygen masks will fall from the sky and it's all okay because there are dinghies attached to the doors. </div>
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Nothing wrong with airports. Sure, you hand over your belongings to a stranger who puts them on a conveyor belt before they're swallowed into who-knows-what subterranean world of suitcasing. On the way out, you're busy changing your money into money that could have been drawn by children with crayons, and on the way back, you're trying to spend the last shreds of your strange foreign coinage on souvenir piñatas. </div>
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I honestly saw a shop in the airport selling cactuses for tourists to take home. There are no words, so I have to express this in italics.<i> Cactuses. </i>And it doesn't matter how much you buy, you will always end up with 3 euros and sixty cents that you'll intend to keep for the next holiday but will actually spend months trying to fool vending machines into accepting. </div>
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But that's all fine, because that's the airport. If anyone doesn't use the airport as the last place to stock up on being-too-drunk-to-be-afraid-of-aeroplanes, then they are a braver creature than I am. And I've faced down mountain trolls, although really that whole thing was a misunderstanding. I would take angry, mildly singed mountain trolls over planes every time. </div>
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The only other downside to holidays is the physical. </div>
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I shed an entire layer of crinkly, sunburnt skin after I returned. I feel a kinship with my snake brethren, and also mildly flayed. </div>
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<br /></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-9719611044384423452012-02-29T21:22:00.000+00:002012-02-29T21:22:25.370+00:00The First Bee Of The YearI saw the first bee of the year today. He looked confused. I looked confused.<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">We will remain confused until the warmer weather comes. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-77465322893060590962012-02-28T21:17:00.000+00:002012-02-28T21:17:35.943+00:00Madlibs With Manticores #1For my Twitter followers, a special present. A beautifully hand-scrawled drawing of them performing an action with a mythical beast of their choice. All, surprisingly, entirely safe for work and no-one has come out with a weird fetish for skydiving basilisks.<br />
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Add me on Twitter, link on the right! Or the left, if you're sitting in the internet and looking out...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-47072009155651990482012-02-14T23:03:00.001+00:002012-02-14T23:05:35.477+00:00Valentine's DragonsI may have said it before. Dragons aren't romantic. We have a tendency to set fire to things, and not in a "hey baby, you're on fire, come back to my place for a drink". More in a "hey, that baby is on fire. I SWEAR I HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH IT".<br />
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This is how you imagine dragons are at Valentine's Day<br />
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This is how dragons actually are at Valentine's Day.<br />
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Note the difference between the first and the second pictures. The first one has a cutesy dragon curled around a heart. The second has a dragon holding the still-beating heart in his curled talons. It's a big difference, and if you're planning on dating a dragon, it's one you really should think about. Seriously. I cannot stress that enough. Breaking up because you were growing apart is one thing. Breaking up because you've been ripped apart is another.<br />
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But let's be honest, even dating other dragons is complicated.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9r-q0lwDAZIESer4je810SkpRwOhFzY4hXaz6MBOidXQV1qhyllvFfM3iBRrVHHtmbiVdVX8kduDcDI_Kx5p9fChgrKl4lNU0UgiGLO0-Jdt17BCPF6KKasHFa0CmXRkyMdAgqQjZUs/s1600/Valentine%2527s+Dragons+%25233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr9r-q0lwDAZIESer4je810SkpRwOhFzY4hXaz6MBOidXQV1qhyllvFfM3iBRrVHHtmbiVdVX8kduDcDI_Kx5p9fChgrKl4lNU0UgiGLO0-Jdt17BCPF6KKasHFa0CmXRkyMdAgqQjZUs/s400/Valentine%2527s+Dragons+%25233.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONcWp-zfaDGg6bOWPvL-hjV2flDY7WjWwDXtT_J8WurIc9dlYFStwolhZinmvs7ln3B5cqTXOK4M6Rq1KrVGyPpqX15ePvtIB8k3KRFL6bFCNDQ7UkAhbgfQqyhE12bxILPe6DmOrkaM/s1600/Valentine's+Dragons+%235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="121" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgONcWp-zfaDGg6bOWPvL-hjV2flDY7WjWwDXtT_J8WurIc9dlYFStwolhZinmvs7ln3B5cqTXOK4M6Rq1KrVGyPpqX15ePvtIB8k3KRFL6bFCNDQ7UkAhbgfQqyhE12bxILPe6DmOrkaM/s400/Valentine's+Dragons+%235.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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</div>I'm going to stay in this Valentine's Day<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-25446373134480441602012-01-24T23:43:00.000+00:002012-01-24T23:43:20.079+00:00Year of the Dragon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Xin nian kuai le!</span></span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlnkegIhYMtJ6EiyH9WRDW2zAnmpThAyaUozKytYB2KHwV0Xkgn8BbMjobPDr151MS58f8uDMbuTRpwPa2wijjLEf8khXqMgVD6bW7jpvReuFMqLijiPGyxHnI5Y7QdQia8CCg-d7erQ/s1600/Chinese+New+Year.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="261" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKlnkegIhYMtJ6EiyH9WRDW2zAnmpThAyaUozKytYB2KHwV0Xkgn8BbMjobPDr151MS58f8uDMbuTRpwPa2wijjLEf8khXqMgVD6bW7jpvReuFMqLijiPGyxHnI5Y7QdQia8CCg-d7erQ/s400/Chinese+New+Year.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">You have <i>no </i>idea how much yoga it took to get myself fit for that photo. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Here we are, in the Chinese Year of the Dragon. This means there are a lot of babies born in the last twenty-four days that are claiming to be dragons, which is both incorrect and quite impressive for an infant. Those born in the year of the me will never have the overwhelming craving for gold, or tasty charred human flesh that a true dragon has. But they may share some apparently common characteristics of dragons.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Like being strong, powerful, intuitive and artistic.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6A-vHU4fbGAIsoVN1ARYOQV5c5ChVp_YX7E67dFn_UHIJlxT-BgYc2-3wep0I29k-B0iNGIH01cm4UYZtcOt70Ubqsxx_9oIQBmJm_PV6P_p2t7GFNH6GPBMv4NNqMq46VnNckshWydg/s1600/Artistic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6A-vHU4fbGAIsoVN1ARYOQV5c5ChVp_YX7E67dFn_UHIJlxT-BgYc2-3wep0I29k-B0iNGIH01cm4UYZtcOt70Ubqsxx_9oIQBmJm_PV6P_p2t7GFNH6GPBMv4NNqMq46VnNckshWydg/s320/Artistic.jpg" width="175" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Of course, loath as I am to admit it, there are downsides to being a dragon. We are stubborn, ferocious, and terrible at romance...</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBwxKdv5kdD1mKte-rOsq-WZU3dR_71REkh6l9zHo-CINps1kHhOP6cSRfb1SYTva7Ew_-tkEfccXaYWyIvx_DbFYwgFEZA9Y8eUH0GgyN3R4bVyk51OOgQuBYED6DgFVvxAd6VB_Kf8g/s1600/Romantic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBwxKdv5kdD1mKte-rOsq-WZU3dR_71REkh6l9zHo-CINps1kHhOP6cSRfb1SYTva7Ew_-tkEfccXaYWyIvx_DbFYwgFEZA9Y8eUH0GgyN3R4bVyk51OOgQuBYED6DgFVvxAd6VB_Kf8g/s320/Romantic.jpg" width="223" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>Whatever our negative points, though, it's better than being an ox. No-one ever said "wow, guys, did you see that film with the really impressive ox in it? Man, I wish ox were real. I would totally get one as a pet. I would have such a deep emotional bond with my ox it would be like it could read my mind!". No-one says that.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc03qzeRDtJJANuq_C_2uQ0FQdzZ_TtM3uAHu3dCK3l7AI_KWA_dPhY4_-R7SeV-R3WfE8FlicV6YnXB3_6jSF5EXujo45FgmkTHwMiaXxt3dwd2xblB5dM9NMjAJjdQ_If5fIwDK6nVs/s1600/Ox+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjc03qzeRDtJJANuq_C_2uQ0FQdzZ_TtM3uAHu3dCK3l7AI_KWA_dPhY4_-R7SeV-R3WfE8FlicV6YnXB3_6jSF5EXujo45FgmkTHwMiaXxt3dwd2xblB5dM9NMjAJjdQ_If5fIwDK6nVs/s320/Ox+001.jpg" width="301" /></a></div><br />
I feel a bit sorry for the ox now.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-62548528970851952192012-01-17T23:04:00.000+00:002012-01-17T23:04:22.690+00:00Oh, the unbearable agony<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcVDz1vNaGU6ynBgkdTNh21l7I1udMDb0R_ulQyVwoo4-vgvMjCgOQMYa37NnpAjSkmEqiXY63U5Oxryk8wRiuMWAN432SpE7kWofCb8_0odVuShvx6pxu9z4Es6q-UnlPl7wvneONyK8/s1600/Toe+Dragon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="292" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcVDz1vNaGU6ynBgkdTNh21l7I1udMDb0R_ulQyVwoo4-vgvMjCgOQMYa37NnpAjSkmEqiXY63U5Oxryk8wRiuMWAN432SpE7kWofCb8_0odVuShvx6pxu9z4Es6q-UnlPl7wvneONyK8/s400/Toe+Dragon.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-89699409308362955422012-01-06T22:53:00.000+00:002012-01-06T22:53:55.471+00:00Cold-bloodedAs a dragon, I defy the laws of science. Not deliberately, because I've turned over a new leaf since the days of slaughtering, and now I try and avoid so much as a speeding fine because let's be honest, a dragon getting arrested would be a media circus. And then, possibly, a <i>real </i>circus. I saw what you humans did to King Kong. I have no desire to go down that particular route. <div><br />
</div><div>Back to my point. I am, as a giant lizard, cold-blooded. But as a <i>dragon, </i>I spew fire from my mouth at temperatures that would melt your flesh (but leave your suit of silver armour remarkably untouched; it's a very specific temperature). For the most part, I'm self-regulating, like those boilers on an automatic timer, only much easier to use. </div><div><br />
</div><div>However, it is now January, and I am in England, and it is <i>freezing. </i>Internal thermals can do nothing against the bitter winds of the Midlands. God only knows what it's like in the north. I imagine they've started selling ice blocks to Farmfoods. It's really very cold. </div><div><br />
</div><div>And no-one seems to take my earmuffs seriously. </div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPqdSoVcd48tHGjEWOLrJjJ0zeb6SydVjwzBEA3cujs_V-EoLchakPmgmgwzg1Rx3Hn8-jA5ZqydnN-5SBegRpkG8MkJdGsmlUJ2lb9kgxuTnwiQ-6uTlDXq88hDzBo3TVtp9Z2EESfw/s1600/January+Weather+Dragon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="189" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPqdSoVcd48tHGjEWOLrJjJ0zeb6SydVjwzBEA3cujs_V-EoLchakPmgmgwzg1Rx3Hn8-jA5ZqydnN-5SBegRpkG8MkJdGsmlUJ2lb9kgxuTnwiQ-6uTlDXq88hDzBo3TVtp9Z2EESfw/s320/January+Weather+Dragon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It wouldn't be so bad if it was just chilly. It's the wind. I can hear it howling constantly, and yesterday I saw it blow a bird out of a tree. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTd7fM8Gf1YDuu0XyJvLWXW2v0DYuXduzebJAkWUQP_Xfj7d4q8apZuxHjIap8zo_44SRFE2VOHJJc_eHKZi6io5HPXfBIo0l5PisDjW6fLYtJZzRd4SBPBAj5M1Un22cZQ9dOeUSj46M/s1600/January+Weather+%25231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTd7fM8Gf1YDuu0XyJvLWXW2v0DYuXduzebJAkWUQP_Xfj7d4q8apZuxHjIap8zo_44SRFE2VOHJJc_eHKZi6io5HPXfBIo0l5PisDjW6fLYtJZzRd4SBPBAj5M1Un22cZQ9dOeUSj46M/s320/January+Weather+%25231.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">One minute the bird was quietly minding its own business</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzTgy7BApUE2dhztabE-svDsJYj8X4CKz2cxzDNngE2GPV8Iyyy4fWve52yKOcnrPrj1DhgmW9Zx0vwZ6hNb81g6FBQc6vpn305JzFdtMPTbY-VndcGQUv88D8-yhrbgplnuf1mtUNyI/s1600/January+Weather+%25232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="157" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSzTgy7BApUE2dhztabE-svDsJYj8X4CKz2cxzDNngE2GPV8Iyyy4fWve52yKOcnrPrj1DhgmW9Zx0vwZ6hNb81g6FBQc6vpn305JzFdtMPTbY-VndcGQUv88D8-yhrbgplnuf1mtUNyI/s320/January+Weather+%25232.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVeu-O1dcJmsdB3xjq1mixgL2uRLDfNSEGJHEiBSBDsql7XcxjFkB80J2N-vzwhAtc1NSSi8T1U8O1XoMK45DK-gniuT7Gg7imva3p3l9NuWeJByXbhGAM28Xy17hvoQz79A2_X2kX3GU/s1600/January+Weather+%25233.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="182" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVeu-O1dcJmsdB3xjq1mixgL2uRLDfNSEGJHEiBSBDsql7XcxjFkB80J2N-vzwhAtc1NSSi8T1U8O1XoMK45DK-gniuT7Gg7imva3p3l9NuWeJByXbhGAM28Xy17hvoQz79A2_X2kX3GU/s320/January+Weather+%25233.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And the next it was suddenly six inches sideways. </div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-L52HsDkedEWSVNi6x1o9BSYvOSgfrekpZT4iG62vCSymv2hjkjtIiaWnrsQpsq0f-o2I7ZvBWSh53ODFqGeeymeZovyTFfRD7Ho3MTaedWnJEmthNIG4nsm5gVvyp3vOI2hyphenhyphenF1RCLq4/s1600/January+Weather+%25234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-L52HsDkedEWSVNi6x1o9BSYvOSgfrekpZT4iG62vCSymv2hjkjtIiaWnrsQpsq0f-o2I7ZvBWSh53ODFqGeeymeZovyTFfRD7Ho3MTaedWnJEmthNIG4nsm5gVvyp3vOI2hyphenhyphenF1RCLq4/s320/January+Weather+%25234.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div>Time to break out the hot water bottles and start nailing the birds to their perches.</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-38407225638679997432011-12-21T21:58:00.000+00:002011-12-21T21:58:08.720+00:00The First ChristmasThis time of year makes me reminisce, in the best tradition of Christmas sitcom specials. Everything goes a bit wavy and then I flash back, which could be Memory Lane, or could be the cheap cooking brandy I've been drinking to dull the pain. Let us travel back in time to an age where dragons were fearsome and I was less drunk...<div><br />
</div><div>The date was... many years ago. King Arthur was no longer on the throne, but Twitter hadn't been invented yet, so it was somewhere inbetween. Now, dragons aren't exactly sociable creatures. We don't live in large family groups, because putting so many of us together is spelling spontaneous combustions with a capital spon. But there are still some traditions that we uphold. The birth of a baby dragon, for instance, was always marked with a goat, and a dragon's coming of age ceremony was something quite spectacular. It involved virgin princesses, but who can find those in this day and age? I did think of starting an online import/export company, but the outset cost of tiaras was ridiculous. But I digress. </div><div><br />
</div><div>We celebrated Christmas in a rather different way, as dragons. For many, it is the birth of the Messiah. For us, it is a mooing, bleating, lowing feast served in the rustic way (i.e., a stable). We'd probably pause before we ate the baby Jesus, since we've learned our lesson as a species after the St. George incident, but every winter we commemorated the deliciousness of all the beasts and celebrated another year we hadn't been stabbed by overeager heroes. </div><div><br />
</div><div>This particular December, the family had flown in, the cattle were panicking, and the local villagers had retreated to their cellars as we caroused. Nothing carouses quite like us. My Aunt Adelinde limboing is a sight to bring a tear to the eye, and the bile to the throat. Bends in ways I can't stomach remembering. Anyway, as a young dragon, I was expected to keep quiet and sit in the corner playing with the discarded hooves from dinner, until everyone had roared themselves hoarse and fallen asleep on the treasure hoard. </div><div><br />
</div><div>But this year, my Uncle Knucker had been invited. He wasn't like the rest of the family. Most of the conversation then was about slaying and eating and possibly, if there was time, more slaying. Uncle Knucker was what my father called, with a sneer, <i>modern</i>. This meant he didn't eat more livestock than he had to, he read improving books, and he kept the leylandii trees between his and the neighbouring gardens nicely pruned. Nowadays, with our numbers declining, the idea of trying to blend in is sensible. Back then, it was insane. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Living so closely with people had given Uncle Knucker strange ideas about our winter festivals. That year, he suggested that we might adopt a human pastime and play something called <i>charades. </i></div><div><i><br />
</i></div><div>Anyone who has ever played a family trivia game can guess how well this went. I shan't paint the full gory picture, because there isn't enough red crayon in the world to accurately depict how bloodthirsty a game can get when both teams have short tempers and firepower. We were scraping scales from the walls well into the new year. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Every time I see the box for Trivial Pursuit, I get cold shivers. </div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-75480946712144903582011-12-18T22:43:00.000+00:002011-12-18T22:43:14.284+00:00Festive goodness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aDVE7lkyFYNSXgrO4Bx0b__SeF5iieuAlRKwYrGPXOHm7ihi3KGGVG4J0ckesIVf0N-sV3YhxQ2R2ZxrdKRzINId-XDIit63r9RLNCjj-sJFHPJFdD6wc5uB64sxNzv06lmx27NhCk4/s1600/Festive+Goodness.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0aDVE7lkyFYNSXgrO4Bx0b__SeF5iieuAlRKwYrGPXOHm7ihi3KGGVG4J0ckesIVf0N-sV3YhxQ2R2ZxrdKRzINId-XDIit63r9RLNCjj-sJFHPJFdD6wc5uB64sxNzv06lmx27NhCk4/s320/Festive+Goodness.jpg" width="315" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiJ0RjwdKfFqqpjFX8n6fRBTkn_QgvijhslQYtlxh_CL3Oxz2V_hGLPjLsoNMVq7_-Fy4P3c8GdBbFasIln5Utt9ZXmh587q7lJpJsxJtdMqndjBhGU49uT_m2M6lwPc2z4OdAuN8gPo/s1600/Elf+Fire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOiJ0RjwdKfFqqpjFX8n6fRBTkn_QgvijhslQYtlxh_CL3Oxz2V_hGLPjLsoNMVq7_-Fy4P3c8GdBbFasIln5Utt9ZXmh587q7lJpJsxJtdMqndjBhGU49uT_m2M6lwPc2z4OdAuN8gPo/s320/Elf+Fire.jpg" width="278" /></a></div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-1192156428994665742011-12-15T21:44:00.000+00:002011-12-15T21:44:49.213+00:00Decline and FallThere are many addictions in the world. I admit, I'm not the most strong-willed of beasts. If it comes to treasure, I tend to go a little bit hazy around the edges with gold-lust. For the most part, though, I manage to push on through my everyday life, even if those Cash 4 Gold adverts tempt me with the idea of warehouses full of ex-catalogue nine carat wonder. Even talking about it is making my talons twinge.<br />
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But in the past few months, I may have slipped. Not a little slip, like an alcoholic who licks the Christmas pudding for that sweet brandy taste. No, I took one step onto the road and found myself four months later in a catatonic state in a rehab facility in a quiet mountain location.<br />
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It's all Blackpool's fault. Las Vegas may be renowned for it's gambling facilities, the brilliant lights against the desert backdrop, but Blackpool is known for it's three-lightbulb illuminations and knock-off Eiffel Tower. I thought I would be safe there. I hadn't reckoned on the two-pence machines. You put one in, and sometimes it knocks another one out, so you put another one in, and it looks so close to teetering and giving you a sixpenny jackpot, and another, and another, and another...<br />
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Effie said that when she finally got me out of there, all I could do was move my pathetically wasted arms mechanically and twitch every time I heard a metallic noise.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpkSm3wIYSirZdDjEDPrjbalZuXdxC8o5aWTiCqs7mk-zF6Qh26X60WE2d5c_hn-dsR7OAOn181BXiQozdAjms-AMdrCkNqxUbjn2MIm3_LJlenX2jM_eYp2ocDNSvej7pJPwaDGceK-0/s1600/Blackpool+%25231+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpkSm3wIYSirZdDjEDPrjbalZuXdxC8o5aWTiCqs7mk-zF6Qh26X60WE2d5c_hn-dsR7OAOn181BXiQozdAjms-AMdrCkNqxUbjn2MIm3_LJlenX2jM_eYp2ocDNSvej7pJPwaDGceK-0/s400/Blackpool+%25231+001.jpg" width="337" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0oOwiP5Zmpv4hT3lQhZ0IJ0XCJEdcuLZbqaefGoi8CQcQTVwm-cO68k6SunIEEF64UDhLTHoPobhYI3dF_u6cjsL0n4P6IwVft_t2nAvkEXQLRcR4rpnUIOtVUHYIUPfNsDwMPKEXRo/s1600/Blackpool+%25232+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV0oOwiP5Zmpv4hT3lQhZ0IJ0XCJEdcuLZbqaefGoi8CQcQTVwm-cO68k6SunIEEF64UDhLTHoPobhYI3dF_u6cjsL0n4P6IwVft_t2nAvkEXQLRcR4rpnUIOtVUHYIUPfNsDwMPKEXRo/s400/Blackpool+%25232+001.jpg" width="341" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBYixhBMiP-Nr30zl1pm9bkvfrkqh03H2QSxU9CQPmZlkqPWgME7xqCj3GOmz-kNVVDIIpb5_ESqLpRwlQG16kZnJEuW4S3PKsJ9id84DwrHHDyMjoZ68e1v9oX7GmGmQGcdpijmifBw/s1600/Blackpool+%25233+001.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="327" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBBYixhBMiP-Nr30zl1pm9bkvfrkqh03H2QSxU9CQPmZlkqPWgME7xqCj3GOmz-kNVVDIIpb5_ESqLpRwlQG16kZnJEuW4S3PKsJ9id84DwrHHDyMjoZ68e1v9oX7GmGmQGcdpijmifBw/s400/Blackpool+%25233+001.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
I'm not allowed back now.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-92121126881894806182011-07-31T21:38:00.001+01:002011-07-31T21:49:12.941+01:00Insufficient SpacklingThe long delay between last entry and this is due to two reasons.<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>One: I had to exit the last flat under a cloud of ignominy and plaster dust. I'd managed to patch up the scorched wall with spackling paste, but apparently there is a reason builders don't use that as the sole construction material on a load-bearing wall. Something to do with the entire building collapsing when it isn't properly reinforced, etcetera etcetera. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Fortunately, no-one was hurt, and the only thing seriously damaged was my contents insurance premiums -already sky-high, after people kept breaking in to 'defeat the monstrous beast' and then making off with things as souvenirs. Not that a television is exactly an appropriately poetic representation of fighting a dragon, especially not when I was planning on watching Top Gear. </div><div><br />
</div><div>Two: I went to Latitude Festival in Suffolk. It was fantastic.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMWoqeJLISvWOojV7eSwHYxjB8nHVZJEyQj4xy6C8ciI93rF1tLetJHBuZAVPbnLEgliGsp72161Yw8PbnxXeQ8UTcMyRbOVRcbPXRr-b-bg4Uro38ySScK-znIcyZWzPbCVoZXbqF3A/s1600/Lat+Camping.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpMWoqeJLISvWOojV7eSwHYxjB8nHVZJEyQj4xy6C8ciI93rF1tLetJHBuZAVPbnLEgliGsp72161Yw8PbnxXeQ8UTcMyRbOVRcbPXRr-b-bg4Uro38ySScK-znIcyZWzPbCVoZXbqF3A/s320/Lat+Camping.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">My vegetarianism, however, was sorely tried by the delicious looking sheep on the campsite. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92lL7SGfzkTkk5oqryUB79uxbteNzHPe_sCu5tKbIuVJo3D0dkejZtQD8GfhdoTb3EjHFuzo3Xjb30xsC0A4OAGqNvMK1i5PHnNXwLOUCevnPyMgc5ywIFiRKDc-xxDJeKam-5W47VqA/s1600/Flavoured+Lat+Sheep.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi92lL7SGfzkTkk5oqryUB79uxbteNzHPe_sCu5tKbIuVJo3D0dkejZtQD8GfhdoTb3EjHFuzo3Xjb30xsC0A4OAGqNvMK1i5PHnNXwLOUCevnPyMgc5ywIFiRKDc-xxDJeKam-5W47VqA/s320/Flavoured+Lat+Sheep.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">No amount of tofu can compare. Sigh.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
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</div><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-68862822579082678242011-06-26T21:40:00.003+01:002011-06-27T01:35:10.949+01:00Mood LightingIt's been a busy few days. I finally got round to cataloguing my gold earlier in the week. For most dragons, this is a task that could take months. Especially if you subcategorise by age, style, number of questing knights who have died trying to retrieve said item, etcetera etcetera.<br />
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My own hoard of gold is sadly depleted after a whole run-in with a knight back in the seventeenth century, but it's still no small amount. After a long day of counting and gloating and trying to make it into a bed (uncomfortable, but traditional), I decided to relax with a glass of wine and a good book, bathed in the soft glow of candlelight. Unfortunately, after a little too much Echo Falls, I misaimed while relighting a candle, and...<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R1zThpN1o7zxpvpvL6kcIa8v1aIfTwbQKnYzIO1x8tevyUnEeSq6kwWifa-tWmHV6wAe-7u85xxscGMP-2UFhC9Gp7zLFcU7pdbBNfeCCG2hlN_HHVitK5Mv-ahKXI3b95qf1yJNpto/s1600/Mood+Lighting.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-R1zThpN1o7zxpvpvL6kcIa8v1aIfTwbQKnYzIO1x8tevyUnEeSq6kwWifa-tWmHV6wAe-7u85xxscGMP-2UFhC9Gp7zLFcU7pdbBNfeCCG2hlN_HHVitK5Mv-ahKXI3b95qf1yJNpto/s640/Mood+Lighting.jpg" width="204" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was only a <i>very little </i>structural damage, but the woman next door is looking for any excuse to get rid of me. I know it was her who told the landlord. I covered the worst of the scorch marks, and the hole in the plasterboard, with a tasteful bead curtain. I think the landlord noticed. I won't be getting my security deposit back, will I? </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I also went to see the fantastic Erasure in Cannock Forest. Of course, it rained the whole time. I thought I might stand out, a huge dragon in a transparent waterproof poncho... </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpMiKJHRIyWcKhKgQmxPXG0pN8yvVz50Bm6tvRmojFoAFqG3uom33up1nX8DLb0xLuRjFBBNiL8lfxWMtfudgpVdQpGKc6yNIk4R1yk1H8YuJ2J_PT7ogIht9quPYBwIMk60MH8ftxxs/s1600/Dragon+at+Erasure.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpMiKJHRIyWcKhKgQmxPXG0pN8yvVz50Bm6tvRmojFoAFqG3uom33up1nX8DLb0xLuRjFBBNiL8lfxWMtfudgpVdQpGKc6yNIk4R1yk1H8YuJ2J_PT7ogIht9quPYBwIMk60MH8ftxxs/s400/Dragon+at+Erasure.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div>...but then Andy Bell leapt onstage wearing a red sequinned jacket. Scene-stealer.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8319156948175563006.post-5987525050460046352011-06-21T15:21:00.000+01:002011-06-21T22:35:47.527+01:00It's hard to type when you've only got three fingers and huge claws<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Just because I'm a mythological reptile, that doesn’t mean I can’t keep up to date with modern technology. And dragons seem to be vastly under-represented in the blogging world. I suspect it’s because not many of us can type accurately with our claws. I've solved this by dictating to my helpful neighbour, Effie. If I were to type this myself, it would be something like this: </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Henlno ui am a dRAgon.,</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You can see my point. </span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDrdVJS3oUdk0zg7hfA1J11YeOvojEPu6E3Ismc25C6OJgyWuRMb0IHFtsa4EbFQ08AaD6SpUrKtWCY_K2CKcojVrozl2TAHd_F2CLseeuiKVeevyQ9x2glyks7R1fGp03_NRd0qSOyI/s1600/Sad+Plight+of+Ctrl+Alt+Del.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtDrdVJS3oUdk0zg7hfA1J11YeOvojEPu6E3Ismc25C6OJgyWuRMb0IHFtsa4EbFQ08AaD6SpUrKtWCY_K2CKcojVrozl2TAHd_F2CLseeuiKVeevyQ9x2glyks7R1fGp03_NRd0qSOyI/s400/Sad+Plight+of+Ctrl+Alt+Del.jpg" width="355" /></a></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Technorati claim: <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #2a2a2a; line-height: 17px;">5GHQH4FTD3JK</span></span><div class="blogger-post-footer"><a href="http://twitter.com/#!/I_am_a_Dragon"><img src="http://www.twitterbuttons.com/upload/images/a7214c2190bar.gif" title="By: TwitterButtons.com" alt="By: TwitterButtons.com" width="259" height="88" /></a><br /><a href="http://www.twitterbuttons.com">By TwitterButtons.com</a></div>Dragonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10964583736615449000noreply@blogger.com0