Why didn’t they just call it Canola?

Scrappy is licking my feet. Teeheehee. He obviously knows that I need help getting by. Eva has decided to snooze on the couch with me, and Gomez is exploring the boxes I brought home. I meant to start packing for the move. So far I’ve only packed about half a bookcase. Gomez wants to help too.

Despite the fact it’s Easter weekend, there’s still no rest for the wicked. Two big weddings and a bunch of other stuff to do. I won’t get a weekend free until the end of April. My brain is full of work and probably needs to stay that way for another 24 hours.

So of course I am distracting myself by flittering around the internet and not going to sleep. Just read this article in the Herald about a British supermarket selling paint called Rapeseed Yellow, shortened on the tin to Rape Yellow. And of course somebody has to comment that they don’t understand why people would get “so hot under the collar”. I had to laugh out loud.

I can envisage it now: a whole line of Crime Colours. Murder Blue. Fraud White. Domestic Assault Purple. Kiddie Porn Pink…

 

… Definitely time I slept…

 

 

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