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November 20, 2009

Blank

The next article for Alienskin is imminent and I have no idea what to write about. Not a clue.

It should have something to do with Santa, the red guy who appears in the night, but what? I have to work on a theme here but I have absolutely nothing coming through. The Professor hasn't been around for some time either. He's always useful for getting the muse working.

It would help if Dumelet stopped howling all night. I mean, it's not as if it's a full moon and anyway he can't see the moon through the swamp mist. Which reminds me. He needs a name and I need to think of a Christmas present for him. Perhaps I can do both at once? He could have a name as a present. It's one he'll keep his whole life and it won't cost me any money. Perfect.

Now, it's time to rattle my head. There must be an idea in there somewhere.

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November 15, 2009

Disgusted.

Senga called me away from a dissection today. I had another travelling salesman and was adding data to my attempt to determine whether intestinal length correlates with selling ability and she interrupted me most rudely.

I had to help her change Dumelet's nappy. I have never seen anything so disgusting in my life. It was my job to hold the muzzle on him while she used the power hose and bleach to clean him, followed by a little baby powder of course, and then she'd strap the new nappy on with cable ties. It would be cheaper to use safety pins but I prefer he's not armed.

I had to carry the bag of evil stench out of the room. I wish I had longer arms. Senga has apparently been throwing these out into the swamp so I'll have to tread carefully next time I go out for a walk. They could mutate into anything out there. It's not so surprising that I've seen little of the Ferals or the Slimy Swamp Thing lately if the castle is surrounded by these little bombs of revulsion.

What a horrific experience. It's over now and I can get back to those intestines.

Tomorrow I'll fix Dumelet's muzzle with something he can't chew through.

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