Someone requested more pictures of the Salmon Palace, so here are a couple with My New BED, constructed on Monday night (my rôle: stand around, get things wrong whenever I tried to 'help', generally be a waste of space, remove bolts from the dog's mouth occasionally). They are very far from impressive, remind me never to work for an estate agent.
More bedroom (check out those salmon trims! Mmmmmm):
Look no mantlepiece pile:
Ok, it's not exactly tidy, but there's a floor.
And here's the kitchen (the tidying binge did not extend to downstairs):
And the rest of the downstairs:
Are you bored yet? Or faintly repulsed?
Dr Capybara is working on your problems, we might be back later if he's in the mood. I have been studying the sex life of the capybara in order to try and understand him better. It's been quite revelatory, though I may never be able to look him in the eye again, knowing what I do about the life-span of capybara sperm. Apparently the female capybara holds all the cards in capy couplings and can choose whether to mate simply by emitting a whistling noise through her nostrils. "If she does not wish to copulate with a certain individual, she can either submerge more deeply or exit the water entirely". Moreover, the dominant male has a tricky time keeping his females in line. "Because of the high speed of coupling and the low speed of the capybara" says my source, drily, "the dominant male cannot prevent all coupling by subordinates". No wonder the good doctor is in such a filthy mood most of the time. I also note that "breeding of capybaras has historically been difficult due to the high incidence of infanticide". Don't let him babysit for you, will you?
Compare and constrast this from Hadley Freeman in today's Guardian, which struck such a chord I nearly cried:
I mean, it's all very well when you're 19, but it's not quite so impressive when you're 35 is it? But it's the only way I know, and god, it's pathetic. It's astonishing we've managed to avoid extinction as a nation thus far (probably solely due to our impressive rates of teen pregnancy. Way to go, Britain!). I mean, I'd rather be a capybara and just whistle through my nostrils. I might just try it. I suppose it might only attract capybaras, but that's a risk I'm willing to take.