Oh my, what a week we've had!
David Bowie passed on and now a black star, Alan Rickman waving to him in passing, that husband of what's-her-name as well...It does give the astrological sun sign of Cancer an entirely different aspect, doesn't it?
Meanwhile I have had to do my business in the garden under atrocious conditions this week.
You lot in the UK think you are having it hard, do, you, with your nice fluffy snow? Well...I have had rain, rain, rain, and rain again.
It was so bad I have taken to spending my entire nights snuggled up to my woman. Which is hard work in itself, as she tends to shove me to the side of her bed and I have to shove back and bite her nose.
Besides, she needs a lot of convincing I do not want to go out after 10 pm. "But you always go out at night, Viggo?" (note the question mark, for it isn't a question really!) I swear she can purr if she wants to.Still. What I really wanted to pose to you is this:
Samuel Butler once said the following:
Life is not an exact science
it is an Art
I see my woman struggling with life at the moment, and she has put this quote on her door. (How on earth it is going to help her, only Frith knows. It's not going to step down from that door and invite her out to the pub, now is it?)
And then again, Alan Rickman (yes, him) has also quoted something worthwhile:
If only Life could be a little more tender
and Art a little more robust...
So what we are looking for here, is a Life which is arty and tender and robust at the same time, right?
Translating this into Viggo-Speak this would mean: redecorating my latest customised box, whilst being tickled on my robust belly, I suppose.
Hm. Could do.
Right. Enough of this deep shit.
I wish you a wonderful Sunday! Spend it wisely! Visit friends! Go to the pub! Write a quote on your door!
Tarrah!XX
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