Or are they angelic fiends?




This is of course the awesome Serena, Gynarchy Goddess, whose floors Servitor has often cleaned, almost never to her satisfaction, alas.


Or are they angelic fiends?




This is of course the awesome Serena, Gynarchy Goddess, whose floors Servitor has often cleaned, almost never to her satisfaction, alas.


Another science fiction post! Yeah, it was going to be a historical images special but rocket go up! And Servitor likes that. So in honour of brave spacewoman Christina Koch and her three boys on Artemis II, we’ll do space again today. Plus, we’re still not doing World War M, because other kinds of rocket come back down again.
And in honour of everyone’s favourite component of the hive-mind, there are seven science fiction images, so that’s good, right? And as it’s Easter, we’ll have an extra extra one celebrating the day.







Easter eggstra:

Except the ladies here, and my SO, of course.


The redoubtable, talented piano player, Mistress Vixen, there.




Which is obviously fine, humanity being properly reserved for humans not apes or maggots.






Incidentally, my captions here often feature the wonderful Mistress Eleise (with whom I had the pleasure and pain in Paris of a session or three) objecting to blonde jokes. But that’s just my invention. Maybe she really likes them, collects them and treasures examples in which the blonde is being particularly dumb? If anyone visits Canada and if she’s still working, do try a few out and let us know how it goes.
The sort where you wake up in a cold sweat with your heart thumping.






It’s another science fiction special. Now you might object that we just had a science fiction special and for once you’d be right (well done you!) but I’ve just written a tonne* of sci-fi captions, a great many featuring Seven of Nine, so we’re going to be having a lot of them. And in honour of everyone’s favourite Borg, we’ll have seven captioned images each time. Got to get them out there somehow.
Also, I do have a World War M post ready but given there’s quite a lot of actual war around, I think perhaps we’ll keep that on hold for now.
*That’s slightly more than a ton.











Fans of this lovely lady may wish to watch her dancing as Wednesday, here. I mean, it’s not femdom or anything but it’s very… ummm… well, it’s just very. I believe that is the original, but I have to say I prefer the version set to Joy Division. But then, I is Bri-ish, innit?


It’s such a relief to stop pretending.






‘Tis Mothers’ Day!* So we celebrate all mothers, mother-in-laws, stepmothers and other females prepared to take young lads, or older ones for that matter, firmly in hand.
*Yes ’tis, ’tisn’t in May. Not in Britain, we prefer our Mothering Sundays cold and miserable, to match our outlook on life.






Friday the 13th, it is. I’m not superstitious, of course. I believe that rational (and therefore female) thought can explain any apparent mystery. And there’s no such thing as bad luck, not really, except as the working of chance. Like the coin my SO tosses every month (to avoid stressing me out, she tosses it in private and tells me the result): it’s got an equal chance of heads or tails so it’s perfectly understandable that it should have come up tails eleven times in a row – it’s just a one in two thousand chance, that’s all. Which is extraordinarily unlucky, true, but then, as she often points out, I’m extraordinarily lucky to be married to her, so it more than evens out.
Anyway, thought we’d go for a slightly macabre theme today, in contrast to the usual romantic fluff.





