Screaming possums.

Right at this moment there are possums screaming and banging in the space above my head. Literal.
Well I'm late for the anniversary, but only Hugh cares.
I suppose I should start with a beginning... the possums have stopped screaming for now.
I really should go into the roof and block up wherever they are getting in. They sound like elephants when they run over the tin roof. Elephants running, not trumpeting; that would be strange...

I'm starting a new blog because such a great gap in time has passed since I wrote in my old one, and Tom told me the old blog was "emo"... and in all honesty it was a bit. (I couldn't bring myself to type "and in all honesty it was fucking emo")

But I can't hate myself for being emo, because then I really WOULD be emo and then it wouldn't just be the blog. So on with it.

I've never really sank into the blogosphere like Ben or Hugh. So if this is short lived and I wander off for something less green then don't assume I've died. As is wont on the internet.

I think in a way, I'd prefer a blog that looked like my sketchbooks. No discerning direction, but more true to what I think about all the live long day.

The next post will be a real one, I promise.

Happy Anniversary,
Medium Ben, Johnny Beehive and Legs.

Yours Truly, Standard Harry.