Camera shy seagulls prefer large, fresh fish.
The sea is grimly devoid of fruit juice.
Betty Grable provides an ample dish.
Rusted, deep metal holds an old cooked goose.
My bladder has high googly muppet eyes.
Catholic seas are pots of angel urine.
Tom Hanks swims looking for Da Vinci pies.
His small island home rests on Toad's turban.
A bowl of mushroom juice binds a fish mind.
Mercury in bongs makes thermometers.
A one merman army is hard to find.
For the misfit metal sea auditors.
Nurse wheels Poseidon to the podium.
The heart's tax return knows no sodium.
While inking yesterday, I listened to the first half hour of a free audiobook copy of The Odyssey I got from LibriVox, which is a site that features amateur recordings of people reading public domain works. Unfortunately, I was distracted from the story by the voice of the reader, someone named Kirsten Ferreri who sounds like one of those people who are overly conscious of the fact that a lot of people pronounce the letter "T" in words like a "D" (as in, most people pronounce "letter" like "ledder") so she overemphasises the "T" sound constantly. She was clearly in love with the sound of her own voice and interested in showing the world what a perfect reader she was--I started fantasising about how she must be really sensitive and asocial and would probably swoon if a guy touched her. So, yes, it was hard to pay attention to the story.
I read the first story in the new Sirenia Digest with breakfast to-day, "Hydrarguros". A nice, noirish story with an engaging first person narration by an irritable gangster. There were a few nice David Lynch references as well as some interestingly eccentric minor characters. A world's introduced in the story and the ending feels very much like this story is only the beginning of a larger one.
With dinner last night, I watched the fifth episode of Being Human, which was an improvement over the last two. I was disappointed by Annie the ghost's rather weak efforts at haunting her murderer (I think she needs a talk with Juno, the caseworker) which concluded with a pretty tepid confrontation between him and the show's three heroes. But I was charmed more than annoyed by the fact that people making the show seem to have no idea how to write or film action sequences--some vampire thugs threatening them simply stood around and waited for the characters to finish their quirky dialogue. The show took on a very Scooby Doo feeling.
I'm feeling a little overwhelmed by my comic lately. I'm a page behind, having started the first page yesterday and worked on it until an hour before I went to bed last night. I almost finished colouring it--I've got to work on this chapter as much as I can if I don't want another experience like the previous chapter with the 16 hour marathon finale. But I get these silly notions of having a schedule that gives me two hours off after I wake up and another three from when I start dinner to when I go to sleep. I see now this was a very silly dream, particularly as big distractions keep cropping up. I'm feeling pretty ragged lately.