Burning Tiger Woods: A New Year Story in Pictures

Tiger, tiger, burning bright

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In the forests of the night.


What immortal hand or eye
Dared frame your fearful symmetry?



In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of your eyes?


On what wings did you aspire?
What hand did dare seize your fire?


And what shoulder and what art
Twisted your sinews and your heart?


And when your heart begain to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?


What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was your brain?


What the anvil? What dread grasp?
Dared your deadly terrors clasp?


When the stars threw down their spears,
And watered heaven with their tears,


Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?


Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,


What immortal hand or eye
Dared frame thy fearful symmetry?

Hetty the Hotty Goes Mad Or Is It Someone Else Who Is Equally. Or Even More, Insane?

Hi Steven

My name is James Dean, and I'm your new best friend. I came across your blog while looking for something else, but you're perfect! Your combination of smug and needy is perfection! I'm going to follow every move you make. You will never be alone again!
BTW, what is it with you and Hetty Baynes? Did she turn you down some time? Little case of hurt pride?
Oh, and the novel-writing ambition - fab! - you couldn't make it up! xx

20 October 2009 00:31

Hi there, my new best friend. You are no doubt going to become the star of this blog - well, as previously posted, I have lost interest and no-one else appears to be interested.

You may be a thicko, and that will entertain the readers that I do not have, but did it not occur to you that your IP address is now in my log files?

Maybe, I will broadcast it. Oh, sod the maybe. I will make time just for you.