We're going to miss our neighbours!!!!



We, The Nashman, His Royal Orangeness Karl Willem, and PA/PR Gromit, are sad to be moving out of the St. Cross Mansion and leaving our neighbours, the dead people of Holywell Cemetery.

We managed to compose ourselves for a very tearful goodbye.


We see dead people. HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit spent many quiet hours in this old graveyard. It's just so relaxing, and the natives are an amusing bunch. We like it best during a full moon. The shadows cast by the trees and the gravestones, the gentle night breeze, and the footsteps of the local wildlife stimulate our senses.

HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit send email to Kenneth Grahame, author of The Wind in the Willows, one of the eminent and more recent tenants of this 18th century graveyard. Holywell Cemetery is perhaps one of the few resting places that has WiFi. It's refreshing to come here to hack one or two pages of The Nashman's thesis. I'm sure the dearly departed appreciate the ability to Twitter/Blog/Cybersex from their graves.

Where are HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit? We love playing a game of hide and seek here! There are so many places to hide! We'd spend hours and hours just messing about. We think the dead people enjoy our company so much that often, they follow us home for tea. Incidentally, in da Pelepens kong minamahal, there is a more lucrative version of this game called Hide Intsik. Basically, you take one Intsik, hide him away, make a phone call, and then wait. The game ends when you get a bag full of cash.

The graveyard also sustains our berry addiction!!! We come here to pick those very sweet and juicy wild berries! It's the circle of life at its finest! As you can see, PA/PR Gromit stretches out to pluck a handful of ripe berries, with a little bit of help from The Provost of Oriel College's headstone. Thank you sir.

HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit assure the locals that we will come visit them often as we will still pass by them during our daily cycle commute to the lab..

We're going to miss our neighbours!!!!



We, The Nashman, His Royal Orangeness Karl Willem, and PA/PR Gromit, are sad to be moving out of the St. Cross Mansion and leaving our neighbours, the dead people of Holywell Cemetery.

We managed to compose ourselves for a very tearful goodbye.


We see dead people. HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit spent many quiet hours in this old graveyard. It's just so relaxing, and the natives are an amusing bunch. We like it best during a full moon. The shadows cast by the trees and the gravestones, the gentle night breeze, and the footsteps of the local wildlife stimulate our senses.

HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit send email to Kenneth Grahame, author of The Wind in the Willows, one of the eminent and more recent tenants of this 18th century graveyard. Holywell Cemetery is perhaps one of the few resting places that has WiFi. It's refreshing to come here to hack one or two pages of The Nashman's thesis. I'm sure the dearly departed appreciate the ability to Twitter/Blog/Cybersex from their graves.

Where are HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit? We love playing a game of hide and seek here! There are so many places to hide! We'd spend hours and hours just messing about. We think the dead people enjoy our company so much that often, they follow us home for tea. Incidentally, in da Pelepens kong minamahal, there is a more lucrative version of this game called Hide Intsik. Basically, you take one Intsik, hide him away, make a phone call, and then wait. The game ends when you get a bag full of cash.

The graveyard also sustains our berry addiction!!! We come here to pick those very sweet and juicy wild berries! It's the circle of life at its finest! As you can see, PA/PR Gromit stretches out to pluck a handful of ripe berries, with a little bit of help from The Provost of Oriel College's headstone. Thank you sir.

HRO Karl Willem and PA/PR Gromit assure the locals that we will come visit them often as we will still pass by them during our daily cycle commute to the lab..

When this field's a'shakin, don't come a'knockin...


If the Thames Surge Barriers failed...mmmm, me likey likey (BBC/Richard Doyle)

It's so stressful moving to a new place. All that packing and lifting and unpacking. Fortunately, my friend, The überBlonde* one, is having marital problems. So to take her mind off her impending messy divorce, I asked if she could help me move and be my chauffeur and kargador for the day. (*No lame blonde jokes please, she has a biochemistry undergrad and a PhD in Physics and is joining the forensic team of Scotland Yard in a month.)

I keep getting texts from da concerned parents/aunts/ex gf (tse, hindi na tayo magkakabalikan no kaya tama na yang pagkukunwari.) asking how I am with all the flood waters around me. I don't know what doomsday television (probably CNN or NBC) they are watching but it's really not that dramatic here.

Sure, the water is impressively high but the Anglos are very calm people. There is damage, yes and refugees, yes. But one must also remember that this is frigging Oxbarrio! A jewel in the crown. If France has to be invaded to protect the land of Tolkien, Alice in Wonderland, Hogwart's School, Lyra, et al from the waters, it will happen. Oxbarrio is completely surrounded by water, but that is the strategy, allow the lands around it to flood to protect the centre. This is the same scheme used by Holland. Sacrifice the pawns to save the queen.

Hmmm, on second thought, this is also the SAME scheme used in Manila......however, only if your village is named Forbes and your last name has at least one pretentious hyphen.

Of course even my beloved city of Baguio, which shouldn't even be flooded coz it on top of de boondocks experiences such troubles during the typhoon season. It's basically because we had administrators with a chronic cement addiction. (I told you not to snort that stuff, esse. It packs your wallet but ruin your brain. A pine tree made of cement? Why, what a great idea!) Instead of the runoffs being delayed by ground absorption, they rush over the cement toward small drainages. Multiply this 1000 times and you have a body of water that is very destructive with its speed and quantity.

Aaaanyways, enough 'bout the bad.

Some very raunchy images.

Cow porno time!

Put on some Barry White mu-zeeek, and let's get it on!

Nothin’ and nobody
Baby, could ever take or stop
The love that I have for you
It’s very simple, you see it’s
Baby, it’s real
It’s so, so real
What I feel

Uh, ah, can’t you see I want it
Mooh, uh, girl, I’ve been lon-lonely
Mooh, mooh, got to, got to hold you
Mooh, mooh, got to make love to you



Proof that even cows like meat....

Yeah, give her some of that beef jerky...

Those thigh muscles are to die for....