:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
:: 
Naturally, if you’re a blogger of the world in any way, shape, or form, you’ll have often come across the opportunity to buy, or at least rent, a fairy
This is different. Buy a Fairy on eBay, via Easy in the comments section of Neatorama.
Last week a shocking story hit the news around the world.
What appeared to be the mummified remains of a fairy were discovered in the Derbyshire countryside. The 8inch remains complete with wings; skin. teeth and flowing red hair were discovered by a local man while walking his dog along an old remote roman road in the Derbyshire countryside, an area which has long been shrouded in mystery with tales of … strange “dancing” lights on warm summer evenings…This is your chance to own the actual fairy that featured in so many stories around the world…current bid £48.00
Okay, so it’s not the first time someone’s been offered the opportunity to buy a fairy at a rave. Still…This is far more significant and positive than a chance to come in contact with the so-called alien of alien autopsy infamy. After all, everyone knows about those nasty alien anal probes, but who ever heard of a fai – oh, never mind.
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
This is totally legit.
In news bound to rock doctrinaire Evolutionistas everywhere, another set of ancient fairy
Now comes breaking news from Derbyshire, via Neatorama, that the mummified remains of several authentic flower fairies have been located in a barrow somewhere in the countryside. The exact site is being kept secret for obvious reasons; there is no knowing what shameful lengths the charlatans in lab coats might go to in order to erase this stunning blow to their orthodoxy.
The proof is undeniable:
The 2inch remains complete with wings; skin, teeth, and flowing red hair have been examined by anthropologists and forensic experts who can confirm that the body is genuine. X-rays of the “fairy” reveal an anatomically identical skeleton to that of a child. The bones, however, are hollow like those of a bird making them particularly light. The puzzling presence of a navel evne suggests that the beings reproduce the same as humans despite the absence of reproductive organs.
Well, I’d like to see what the “scientific community” can set against that kind of proof, eh? Try your darndest, you godless heathens! Just look at that photo; it’s even got a Police Evidence Bag and latex gloves! You can’t get much more official than that! Ha! I say again, HA!
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
Just to prime the pump (and possibly to silence legions of annoying, yammering, l33tspkg fans) Bloomsbury has released the cover designs for the last book in JK Rowling‘s series: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.
Bloomsbury Publishing Plc is delighted to release the book jacket images for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows by J.K.Rowling, to be published on 21st July 2007. The cover illustration for the children’s edition is by Jason Cockcroft, who drew the cover illustrations for the previous two Harry Potter books… The cover design for the adult edition is from a photograph by Michael Wildsmith, who has photographed all the adult edition jackets…These covers will be used throughout the world on the English language editions excluding the USA. Scholastic US have also released their cover images of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows…
and look, here it is:
Better than the British one (you have to view the full wraparound version on their crappy Flash page), if more individualistic. What does that say about the relative values of each nation? That Daniel Radcliffe has a better US agent than Rupert Grint and Emma Watson, that’s what.
Actually, the best one is the British adult version(warning: is pig-dog to load and has a tendency to crash my computer. Funny, you’d think Slytherin would be raincoaster-positive), with Slytherin‘s locket. Although who would have imagined that Slytherin would be caught dead wearing anything as femme-y as a locket?
Also, why are publishers so enamoured of Flash? These pages are a bitch to load, and that cutsie owl hooting that Scholastic features during the load just about makes me want to go out and strangle the next owl I see.
Or publisher.
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
Oh, it’s not all Alan Rickman’s laser gaze and cute teens prancing around the Great Hall in robes, nosiree.
from the Archive:
My Grampaw, the warlock
Friday, September 30, 2005
Well it makes a hell of a lot of sense, if you think about it.
Even if he wasn’t my grandfather.
Depends on your definition, see. Are you an “on paper” person, or an “off the record” person? Because who my grandfather is depends on who you are in just that way.
On paper, Tom Bailey was my grandfather. Off-paper, or in other fact readily on-paper, he was at sea for ten months before my mother was born. In long retrospect, ie a visit almost 40 years after the fact, a picture of the next-farmer-over’s lawful daughter, sitting on top of the tv, looked enough like my mother to settle the matter. So. Are you a bureaucrat or are you a gossip? Those are your choices.
So. Tom Bailey was known as a warlock. Not a pagan. Please don’t make that mistake; Tom Bailey was a warlock, meaning he had allied himself to what he recognized as the powers of darkness in order to gain power, rather than wrapped himself in silk togas on long weekends and melted aromatherapy candles while doing tarot for his knitting club.
Awwww, how can you say that about a poor, semiliterate farmer?
Any number of ways, starting with the fact that, stone cold sober, he shot out the wall between the living room and the kitchen knowing full-well that his children and wife were on the other side. He wanted to practice, you see.
One of my aunts, as happens in families, was known as “the pretty one,” and, as happens in families, she prided herself on it. Until she was fourteen. At fourteen, she suddenly sprouted warts all over her hands. Now, anyone nowadays knows warts are caused buy a virus. And there’s nothing you can do but get them frozen off. But back then, there was no known cause and nothing you could do. And she was sure, absolutely sure, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that no man would ever marry her with these warts on her hands.
She cried. Of course she did. She cried night and day. And did it bother Tom Bailey? Of course it did not; with a father like him, the kids were always bawling anyway. But finally, after an interminable time during which nobody in the house was able to sleep because of the wailing and the tension, Tom Bailey took arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing, ended them.
He said, “You stay here. The others will leave the house. Let them go to my brother, across the way. Tell them not to come back until an hour after dark. NOT. BEFORE.” and she did what she was told, related what she’d been told, they did what they were told, and an hour after sunset they headed back.
She was thin and shaking. She would not speak. She held her hands out, and they were flawless. They have remained flawless to this day, as has her silence.
:: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: :: ::
raincoaster 