Maybe they can't be buggered at all, but they sure can be eaten.

It's been dark in the mornings for some time now. And now that my fingers start to get numb when I'm out with the dog, I have to admit that it's also getting cold.
Which can mean only one thing: Autumn.
And that in turn means hedgehogs.
A I don't know where the little pincushions hide in the summer, but in spring and autumn they are everywhere. Probably looking for food.
And this means I have to notice of every bump on the path before my dog does, and get away from it, lest it be an hedgehog and I have to spend the next minutes prying his mouth open and getting a spiky ball of fleas out.
No, this dog isn't the most intelligent creature to ever live. He's been trying this for the last seven years. And the only one who's learned something seems to be me. (I'm getting really good at telling apart stones from hedgehogs at a distance in the light of my bike's lamp.)

Blergh!

I really don't need to find strange things in the bottom of my cup, after I drunk all the coffee.
Ok, so it was just a bit of the chalk (?) plaque in the kettle, but I'm still traumatised from the time I found the bottom gray with ash.
Ashtrays. Use them. And dishwashers. Use those too.

And because it's not spamming if it's less than three times a day (and I feel like spamming today):

I really, really, *really* need to try this some time, just to satisfy my inner pyromaniac as well as the five year old.
Sparkler bombs. Ohhhhhhhh!

( And a meme - 20 questions, relationship, blabla )