Until you hang upon such a cross, you won't know a thing about laughter or loss...and you don't believe me now, but you will...you will, you wil you will you will...you will, you will - Titus Andronicus

Hey All, Best Read This First:



G
reetings and a warm welcome to my blog.


First things first

This blog contains words and references offensive to those who never made it through the maturation process.

The intellectually and psychologically impaired will find nothing here to enjoy.


If this applies to you, dear reader, you're welcome, and strongly encouraged to leave now. No hard feelings on my part.

I'm trying to make this clear to the 'boo hoo brigade". If you CANNOT grasp this simple concept. This page is NOT FOR YOU

REPEAT: WARNING:
BLACK IRONY. NASTY SELF PISS TAKING HUMOUR. FUCK OFF NOW IF YOU CANNOT UNDERSTAND THIS. I WON'T MIND. EVER.

*PS: I'm pro Palestinian, pro animal rights in a way that pisses many people off. You should consider fucking off now if you object to this kind of thing.

Cheers Kiddies.

Belladonna



PS This blog is not really fit for human consumption, it's best read as it was written, drunk on vodka or otherwise high as a kite...Enjoy...



20.2.13

Twitter 101 (For Grownups)

Allio, hope you're well? Apart from some extremely irritating news, I'm fine n dandy. I know that rocks your balls.

Prior to my signing up for twitter, social media was a pretty utilitarian vehicle for me, twitter was the first social media i used to be, well, social. I've made more than my share of gaffes (well who hasn't?).

A novice to this nonsense, i was guided by pretty much 1 golden rule: if i don't want to read something, I stop reading it. if anyone doesn't want to read my stuff, no one's forcing them to. If they're too stupid to stop reading it, yet persist in boring me shitless by complaining to me about anything i've said: block 'em. Life's too short to put up with whiney little bitches.

As I'll demonstrate in this post, This eminently sensible golden has it's strengths and weaknesses. It is apparently only comprehensible to adults. Half wits will just keep on bitching. That's just the way of the world.

I can only comment on groups or individuals that may be representative of groups on twitter, whether you agree or disagree with my conclusions is a consequence of experience and temperament.

To keep this post fronm becoming too inflated (long) I'm going to arrange it in neat and concise sections.

Shall we go to, boys n girls? We begin.

Black American Twitter: Easily one of my favs. Direct, no nonense, fascinating vernacular, tolerate no bullshit, polite if addressed politely and somehow, very human. No fucktards allowed. Usually a young crowd and that energy is evident in their tweets. Often very articulate, simultaneously awesome cuss words. I'd recommend this group to anyone except whiney little furries.

German/Kraut Twitter: if you ever needed a reason to learn the German language, this is it. Incredibly cerebral, informed, direct, witty, and has much in common with black American twitter. Both are polite if adressed politely, both have cracking whip smart cynicial humour, and both can exhibit a rawness you don't find in other twitter.

The Germans are also unashamedly honest, masturbation, drug use, drinking, fucking - they don't give a fuck, they'll just come right out with it, dude. Where black American twitter can become a little maudlin and sentimental, German twitter renders the one finger salute, I'm telling you, Kraut Twitter don't do Disney...

French Twitter: I never really pursued this group, mainly cuz i don't like the French, and my French is just very basic conversational "Bonjour monsieur! Comment t'allez vous?" French. I did follow back one Frenchie, and fucked him off weeks later, too pretentious, too "Ah'm zo fogging perfekt...ne c'est pas...?" You can fuck off now, Le Frog...

English Gay Twitter: Not as clever as you think you are, sorry sister, but yer tit n bum bullshit make me puke n cringe. Good if your drunk and wnna talk total infantile pooh bum shit. Not my thing. Some really nice guys tho. Some.

English Straight Twitter: Love to talk about "wot's on the telly, luv" the guys are more interesting than the girls, who just fucking whinge whinge whinge. Many think they're really something wonderful. Arrogant and unfunny.

Latin American Twitter: Some of the kindest, sweetest hearted people I ever met. Unfailingly polite and respond adorably to politeness. Very caring, loving people. PS: In my personal life, every Latino has been a pleasure to know.

Right Wing American Twitter: Uniformly shit spellers. Some of the most ignorant, small, parochial n paranoid ppl i ever, met. Period. Pure garbage.

Left Wing American Political Twitter: Made America fascinating to me. I follow lots. Love their common sense, articulate intelligence. Caring, polite, kind. Before i started following the American educated Left, I had a very low opinion of Americans. After meeting and chatting to many educated left (in American society, that's a tautology) i've revised my opinion terrifically upwards. They're awesome, dude. Awesome.

PS: I've come to the conclusion that there are two (prob more) parallel worlds in America, one inhabited by the fuckery of half witted paranoid white right wingers, and the other inhabited by the educated sane, everybody else. A very rough guide, but somehow, it works. PS: with the exception of some areas of foreign policy and a few questionables in the domestic arena, Obama is like god.


Direct Message: i learned the very hard way that Direct Message is not Private Message, merely a message sent directly to you or from you. Éspecially if someone comes asking you lots of  personal questions, either a) block 'em b) report 'em to @twittersupport or c) ignore 'em. seriously. (mostly only furries, adults have NEVER acted this way on twitter to me, except for some impertinent and sleazy British gays). i used to be too polite and unusre of myself to deal with trolls and stalkers properly, and I got stung badly. Mind you, this only happened with furries, and they are, as I'll show you, the most vile of vile cunts.

General Notes:  a)Avoid twitter "communities", they get boring and mostly only attract low life losers looking for a life. With the exception of very purposful, informed, politically aware groups, most turn inward upon themselves at some stage, and, esp the furries (like true animals, love to cannibalise each other...), seem to attract a peculiar and childish kind of mentality.

b) if anyone comes on dm asking lots of personal questions, run a fucking mile

c) if anyone acts like they really like you or admire you - run a fucking mile. I found, within one group especially, these types were pure nasty.

Which group was that?

i saved the worst til last.

Furries (also euphemistically called "anipals"). A cross between Planet of the Apes and Steven King's Pet Cemetary. Did your dog die? No problem, pack him off to "Rainbow Bridge" with some "Heavanly Bacon" and you can bring him backto life by pretending to be him. And other ppl pretending to be cats/dogs/ vermin will act as tho, that's the most natural thing in the world and talk to to you as tho you really are  dead fluffy (fido) ie: you can pretend to be your dead dog come back to life, you see? it makes perfect sense... if you belong in an asylum for the incurably insane...

On a (slightly) more sinister note, certain members of this retarded group collect for bogus charities, and pocket the money themselves. Don't give 'em anything. One particularly nasty old thing admitted to me she took a nice holiday on the proceeds of money collected for her dead dog's vet treatment. She'd also just recently gotten a few hundreds of dollars on an artical about her eccentricities with her dead dog in a low brow moron's periodical. Nice work if you can get it, sister...

Still, if in spite this, you are not to be deterred, there are a few kinky compensations. The time i talked to these nutters, i was regularly hit up with offers of cyber sex on dm. One shrill little dachshund became extremely nasty when i very politely refused. I never told anyone about her, (cuz I'm a nice guy) but hell hath no fury like a dachshund scorned, apparently, she bitched to all n sundry about me. There were lots of her kind.

My advice is: these ppl are dysfunctional, mad, bad, n sad. I suspect lots of wasteland suburban white middle aged women whom time has passed by rather unkindly, populate the ranks of distubed ppl pretending to be animals.

A handful are kind, intelligent, and well educated ppl, the rest are, simply ppl of the twitter abyss.

PS: the Golden Rule referred to above, altho it's as sensible as the day is long, there are whiney little losers who will bitch about being blocked. One told me, i "was no longer a friend as I'd unfriended her from fb." that's the mentality you're dealing with. Or even more breathtaking: there are the retards who bitch at you and about you on the timeline, yet whine and screech cuz you unfollowed or blocked them. like, bitch, please, if you could just make fucking sense you asstard jackwagon....


This concludes my twitter 101 presentation. Hope you loved it.   ;)

















7.11.12

Don't Try This At Home

well well... i'll begin with my customary salutations and best wishes for your health. I'll get straight to the point as I'm neither feeling in a very purple prose nor in a literarily expansive mood.

To begin with tho, congratulations to America on the re-election of its 44th President Barrack Obama. He is awesome. I was deliriously happy. I stayed up all night to watch. Republicans are shit sticks and fucktards. We all know that.

Ok, on to me.  (naturally, as I am after all, as some of how you have politely pointed out, a wanker), I have had a horrible time.

In brief:: I began to experience a condition where I could not breathe properly. It became by degrees progressively worse. The Dr gave me antibiotics, 2 weeks later, no improvement. i went back, by that time, I could only walk 3 steps before I had to stop and force air into my lungs.

I was sent for an x-ray and told to return that day.. I did. The upshot of all this was, my right lung had completely collapsed. The Dr and practice nurses explained that that the entire lung was full of  fluid and that I had to go to hospital straight away.

Ever the optimist, and having a deep seated dislike of drama queenism and excess attention. I suggested that as I still had one functioning lung, could I not go tomorrow? No, apparently, that would not do. The dr explained to me that if left untreated,  the collapsed lung could (apparently) at any moment flop over onto the healthy lung and squish it. To add force to his argument, Herr Doktor informed me that in any case, it wasn't legal for me to drive in my condition. I conceded that might be a clincher. So, i was hustled off to a room and had some tubing stuffed in my nostrils to feed me air. And of course, then followed the inevitable embarrassment of my "pre existing condition" (the collapsed lung was on the same side as the tumour)

It's embarrassing and awkward. Hey ho, shit happens. i was shoved into an Ambulance and asked lots of questions, I find this irritating. Like "fuck off, we all have comps these days, get the info from ur data base asshole..." Shit and shit.

 Well well, in emergergency, I was given morphine, (shitloads of it, they couldn't understand why it wasn't knocking the pain out. it was the one high (!) point) and a tube was pushed into my lungs through the rib cage. It fuckin' hurt. It really really fuckin' hurt.

This tube was attached to a box thing and my lung fluid poured into it. Now here's the bit that's worrying. My lung fluid drained red. Apparently this is cause for concern cuz it's supposed to be tea or straw coloured. With my pre-existing condition (as the Drs euphamistically put it, I was like, just call it Krebs dudes, I know very well it's there) red coloured fluid is rather... bad. So I was informed.


I'm not going to elaborate much further, there isn't much more to tell. I discharged myself the next day. They took the tube out (fucking ouch) stitched the rather sizable hole back up again (more more more fucking ouch) and gave me a little warning lecture about my health status (you don't say guys) and my partner drove me home.

Well, I am still waiting on results of the test of the lung fluid and the other scan. i forget which, the one where they inject u w the stuff that gives u a metallic taste in your mouth n you feel you've pissed yourself) I've been back to get the stitches out but it hadn't healed enough. They're still in there. I asked the dr about collapsed lungs, were they not a relatively common thing? nothing to get too excited about? He replied "no, they're not common" I mentioned I'd known ppl with staph infections with collapsed lungs...couldn't it be something as simple as an infection? He said "no, they have probably had a bad infection. You had a complete collapse of the lung". He seemed sad when he said it.

It may just be my paranoia/suspicious or sceptical mind, but i got the strong impression he wasn't telling me something.

I'm much better, but still not good as new. I have these horrible sensations of gurgling in my lung and my ribs are starting to hurt more and more. None of that is conclusive of anything, it's just extremely blah.

Ok, so here's what I want to tell you: Whatever happens to you in life, wherever you go, take care of your health. This was no fun at all.

Don't smoke cigarettes, don't eat overprocessed crap. Don't drink sugary lolly water. Just don't. Don't let things get under your skin, don't let them insinuate themselves into your psyche till your thoughts and memories become mere impulses of pain. Don't let anything/anyone hurt you. Stay away from predators.

I learnt this all too late. I believe much of immune weakness is because we psychologically don't know how to protect ourselves.

My greyhound Zephyr died about a month ago, I was and still am, totally crushed. I'm a self harmer and always have been. I internalise things and they eat away at me. My anxiety levels reach peaks that ppl without the condition don't experience. It's hard to describe how i felt when zephyr died. I felt dead and pointless. I loved her.

if as the drs think, the collapse of my lung and the red lung fluid are cancer related, then this is pretty much the beginning of the end. I'm not afraid of dying. But the thought of not being able to go about my daily life is terrifying. I'm 25 years old. I want to run around with our goats, hang out with m'man and take care of the house. Life's good. I don't want to spend the last years/months of my life in pain, struggling for breath or doped up in a hospital bed. I'm hoping to fuck I can stay out of hospital for Christmas.

Most ppl in first world societies will never experience the things i experienced. It was a nightmare that I'm not strong enough to wake up from. So, as many of you (free from memories that still shock and numb) have this advantage over me, you have the luxury of safe guarding your health with greater confidence and self belief than I ever had.

Please listen to me, take care of yourselves, you don't want to go through this.

Cheerz n Luv.

Fudge










18.7.12

King Neptune


Allo! I  hope your little world is spinning away on it's axis just fine for you, in perfect counterpoint to the mad, insane universe even. We had no choice but to endure it as best we can, let's stop with the mindless waffle and get on with things, shall we? Shall we boys n girls? I think it behooves us to do so.

  My fish are having babies all over the place. 5 sets of eggs/fry from (obviously enough) 5 fish mothers. I am inarguably the Jacques Cousteau of the suburban fish tank. And by (only a slight) extension of the metaphor: King Neptune.


  Real fishkeeping is for intelligent, calm, observant people. It's a blokes thing, obviously. You have to measure and test chemicals, and fish are slimey. 1. Chicks are no good at science. 2. Fish look nothing like fluffy cuddly baby substitutes. 3.women only like dishwater. tank water's too icky poo for 'em. 4. you can't put a pink ribbon around a Jack Dempsey and take him to a cafe in your little chi chi handbag. Now can you?


  Don't even start with the handbag swingin' n pot n pan rattling girly. BUT, if you are a lesbian, please swing by, say hi, and tell me what on earth it is that you do for sex?! I mean, you have no penis...so...??? I'll listen with every appearance of respect. I promise.

Ok, I'm off now to keep on packing those boxes... My blue gourami should arrive today or today or tomorrow. That's monumental. I know.

All the best, cheers and lots of lesbo love if that's what gets you through the night, I just wanna know how... y'know? curious.


          xo and xoxo.




13.7.12

Memento Mori

  Hello, greetings Dear Reader, hope this Friday finds your little Universe in order and your wishes fulfilled (provided they are edifying of course, if not, keep your vile and puerile little peccadilloes to yourself)

 We just got back from searching for gourami fish. I want a specific type, we had to order them. It was extremely absorbing for me. A great fucking yawn for my partner. He was chivalrous about it though. So anyway, we just got home. It isn't at all practical for me to be setting up fish tanks cuz we are moving soon, but y'know, can't keep an alcy from a distillery 'n all that. Look, fish are awesome, until you've seen a catfish heroically fight with 'n conquer his zucchini (courgette) you can't say you've ever really lived!

  So, annywaay... we did my things, which was look at fish shops, then we did his things (don't ask), which admittedly, are way funkier than my things. If you have the IQ of a snake that is.

  As we are chatting n bitching away at each other discussing how massive his cock is and why do balls sag as guys age (we're gay, we don't talk about tits) the old poisonous bud in my bones begins with it's Memento Mori. It was quite painful. I didn't say anything for lots of reasons you wouldn't understand unless it was happening to you. It was just a few moments of recurring obnoxious ouch. I'm not complaining, I've had a very good run.

  And yet, I am fucking moved to complain, to screech and whine. Why fucking me?! (immature I know) But, really, why? I have jumped through every hoop, I've endured things that well, were plain shit. Fuck fuck fuck... FUCK.

  I don't want to be ill. I don't want to always pretend it isn't there. It's very exhausting. I don't regret my decision at all. Vivisection is pure evil, I don't want to benefit from it, I would have no liking or tolerance for myself if I did.

  I'm 25, I don't want to deal with things like, "I feel bad he has to cope with all our cats, dogs, fish, goats n God knows what when I'm gone." I could go on and on. And on. There's lots of things that break their way into my thoughts. Mostly I ignore them. I'm an expert at cutting things and people from my immediate mind for the immediate moment, but it's never gone. Of course it isn't.

  Well, I just wanted to whine for a bit. Aside from this, I have nothing to complain of tho. Life's  beautiful. It kinda fascinates me: finally I'm free of dependence on slime bags, dependence on drugs, and financially independent. What do I do? I don't go on some crass spending spree, I 'don't fritter resources away on lavish statements of wealth, I just, y'know, adopt cats in need, look after goats, smoke weed, bake biscuits for my dog, worship the ground my partner, His Majesty walks on. (His Coolness if he's particularly awesome) You, know, just generally mooch along in a modest, easy going way.

  Given the right conditions, we all kinda settle by default into the ruts of our inner nature, so you know, chill, peace out. Smoke weed. Luv on ya babe. Indeed. ;)

  Cheers n Luv x


 

10.7.12

It's a short walk, it's a short short walk...

^ if i just coulda learnt to love my oppressoor, i coulda been
 such a nice well adjusted boy.


Did you know, that if you keep a dog all alone, with no stimulation, no companionship, nothing; in time, changes will take place in that dog's brain. I don't mean changes of mood or "feeling" or behaviour, I mean actual changes in his brain hardware. You understand? He becomes physically a different dog. He can never change back. That's what happens to minds that sustainedly and repeatedly experience trauma, fear and physical pain.

  Experiments on rats show that if repeatedly exposed to a particular extreme of stress, they will just give up. They won't even try to save themselves. That's it, "plop", they won't try to resist what they fear or will cause them great physical pain.

  It's hard to see people empathetically, or feel a common cause with them when you have seen how people behave once they have total power over you, body and mind. Years of that, you become someone else. Your self identity becomes vague, you become vague about your existance. Life is too shaky and certainty about anything becomes impossible.

 Do you know Thomas the Tank Engine? I used to call the old man The Fat Controller, or The Fat Cunt for short.

  So I'm listening to Titus Andronicus, full of piss and vinegar, and vodka. I'm restless and edgy as hell. It's definitely a VV day, vodka and valium, the v dub of self medications.

  Cheers and love, may you learn to ignore the little shit bits, cuz you have no idea how the other half live.

This post has been heavily edited. That's why it seems to make no sense.

6.7.12

The Post Modernist Housemate

Posse of Angelfish. They are very macho fish.
Don't fuck with them... ;)

Hello/Good morning/Shalom etc. I truly hope all is well in your little (or big, should your ego demand it) world. Aside from an uncomfortable feeling of embarrassment, all's very pleasant for me right now.

I always get embarrassed when I blog things that are guaranteed of minimal interest to anyone (which means most of the time, let's face it).

Anyway, some time ago (maybe a year? I'm useless at time) I began to keep tropical fish, and it's pretty much turned into an all consuming past time. I would kill anyone who fucked with my fish tank.

Since I began keeping fish, I've acquired another tank, and I have another one coming, and I've also realised, I want (no, need) a very big tank. So, reckoning in Sinbad, my axolotl, I will have all up 5 fish tanks. I don't think that's unreasonable.

So anyway, I know it's kinda nerdy and *yawn* to most people, but you know, who gives two shits. My blog, my rules, fuck off if yer bored cunt, for your enlightenment and edification, I'm going to explain the essentials of tropical fish keeping.

So if you decide to keep fish, here is what you must do:

1. Buy a tank. You will need a filter, a pump and water ager at a minimum. You should buy gravel, plants, rocks and I think an air pump and air stones is highly desirable. Ideally, the tank should have a light. Most tanks come with the essentials these days anyway.

2. Rinse tank, put water in it. Put in filter and switch it on. Put in a thin layer of gravel. Put in plants and decorations.

3. Leave tank to "Cycle". Cycling a tank refers to initiating a nitrogen cycle. Why? Fish piss and shit their water (I didn't know fish could pee). All this crap exudes ammonia which would burn your fish's fins, bodies, and then kill them. To avoid this rather undesirable consequence, you need to establish a bacteria colony in your tank.

What does a bacteria colony do? bacteria will break down the ammonia into Nitrites, more bacteria will then break this down into Nitrates. Nitrates are not very harmful to fish. You will have to remove 20% of your water regularly, how often depends on a) your bioload (how many fish in the tank) b) the size of your tank c) the strength of your filter.

4) To begin the cycling process, add some fish food, old shrimp, whatever. The bacteria must after all develop from something. You will know when your tank is ready to have fish in it when you have your water tested and your readings return the desired results. Your fish shop will most likely do it for you free and advise you of the state of your tank.

5) Get some fish. The bigger the tank, the more fish you can have. Be nice to your fish, very few, if any, come from waters completely devoid of plant n rock matter. So give them lots of plants and rocks. Make 'em feel at home. Don't put lots of fish in at once. Give the bacteria time to adjust to the increased load.
Obviously fish photography is not my strong point. That aside, I included
this image to show you the beautiful blue of the dwarf
gourami. When you stock your tank, keep in mind (if
aesthetics are important to you that is) the over all look you
want to achieve. There are some truly shit tank schemes out there,
ill thought out unsophisticated garbage.

6) Now you just pretty much have to maintain your tank. Feed your fish appropriate flake, also live food (you wouldn't believe what I did to give mine live food, fuckin' bizarro).But watching my Angel fish and gouramis get a chance to flex their instincts   that thousands of years of evolution has primed them for, is pure fascinating, and the right thing to do for your fish. Otherwise, they are simply the sad equivalent of the battery chicken.

Live Plants v Plastic

Over all  live plants are probably better, but they do have drawbacks. I think, unless you're a painful snob, start with plastic plants cuz that way, you can redesign your aquascape until you get it right. You can always plant live ones any time, but kinda tricky to move them about. I'm slowly replacing my plastic ones with live ones. I've pretty much got my tank a I like it. Almost.

Gravel

Because food can get stuck in deep gravel, I think it's best to keep it skimpy. I don't think lots of substrate (stuff on the bottom of the tank) is healthy. I use minimal layer of dark blue gravel with black gravel strewn through it. Dark colours, also the colour of the back of the tank if it's dark, will make your fish stand out. I see lots of people with inches and inches of gravel. Looks shit. It also displaces water volume.

Fish

Personal taste obviously. I like angelfish, gourami, dwarf gourami, glowlights, catfish and albino rainbow sharks. These are truly smart, friendly and funky fish. They eat from my hands and the feeling of their mouths on my fingertips is pure beautiful. Fish can see, hear, taste and smell. Being animals that make the most of their senses, they take a healthy interest in their surroundings. Mine congregate to the part of their tank closest me and watch what I'm doing, if I run my fingers across their tank, they will often chase them.
An ornery young Albino Rainbow Shark sees an uppity
Gourami off His territory... The Gourami, pissed off no
doubt, departs for now...
These sharks grow to a maximum
of 15 cms. So quite a large fellow to be reckoned with...
Also, fish like to play, in my tank I have a bubble wand a bubble maker. The fish will line up and repeatedly dive into the bubbles and swim through them, they then do a lap of the tank and line up again for their turn through the bubbles. (Try getting your cat or hamster to do that)

Fish Keeping

What completely draws me to this practise is the fact that it exercises both parts of the brain, the creative and logical. It's also extremely entertaining (you might have to be a certain personality "type" to be thusly entertained, I dunno) Anyway, watching my bristlenose catfish fool around with his courgette/zucchini slice is dead funny.

Watching the very "macho" and pompous Angelfish keep order in Their Tank, Gourami taking the piss out of each other, sharks mooch around... if like me you have a biophilic attraction for nature, you will be moved again and again by the beauty, the intelligence and the individual personalities and quirky dignity of your fish.

A platinum male Gourami in all his glory. These are
sizable fish of a strong character. They use their feelers to touch things
Think from memory they may be only fish to do this.



PS, if you don't want to keep fish (the fuck is wrong with you..) then at least don't eat 'em. They wouldn't eat you.                                                                        

7.5.12

A Man's Best Friend


Thanks Beyond thanks for your kindness. The circumstances of Sam's Death were tough. I still miss him like Crazy, he was a unique Dog. We had a v strong Bond, He lived with me from 12 weeks of Age. He won't Be easy to get over. As you say, ...i have plenty to Be getting on with, (including 2 Baby Goats) Sam wz in many ways like a Best friend. Zephyr my Greyhound Is a completely wonderful Dog, i think tho that Sam with his Odd nd unruly ways pretty much broke my Heart when he Died. All up tho, we Move on in Life, but of course, always with the Memory of Things gone Forever. Thanks again for your Kind words. x Hope You're well. :)
 
*My dog died on Friday. He was the doggiest dog that ever lived. The circumstances in which he died were grim. The above is my response to a friend's very kind words.
 
NB: I  copied and pasted this response which was made from my iwank phone. The keyboard on that phone is set to German. For this reaon there are odd capitalizations sprinkled throughout. Germans have very distinct ideas about capitals. I include this explanation in case you wondered.
 
PS: the above is a photo of my cat Billy, she is named after Billy Grogan of The Smashing Pumpkins. Billy rocks my world. I have recent photos of Sam, but I feel too raw to upload them.