a head in a bucket, and done nosing

"Pardonnez-moi, monsieur, mais où est la catastrophe?"
- Gilgamesh Wulfenbach, shaken out of his coma by the lies that Paris is burning and that Zola's head is - again - stuck in a bucket.

I needed this kind of silliness after spending most of the weekend and late last night on my knees, my nose nearly to the floor, while scrubbing then re-sealing the grouting of the tiles in the kitchen and in the two bathrooms.

master of the world

Today, in my mailbox, there was this DVD I'd been looking for, countless moons after countless moons. Only recently did my search bear fruit.