the blog is dead, long live the blog

please go here

sigh

*big sigh*

the time has come. I knew it would. You knew it would.
Some blogs have a life span. And this blog has lived her life to the full.
Vitriolica Webb’s Ite is retiring. She wants to go out with a bang and not with a damp squelch. She feels she’s been treading water for a bit... not really being the grumpy old tough knickers that she used to be... (aaaaah, remember the old days? if you don’t, Miss Vitriolica insists that you read the archives from April 2004 onwards)

This is the last post.

Of COURSE, there’ll be another blog.... and of COURSE I’ll be maintaining blogstory and bloguehistória from there... it just won’t be THIS blog. Vitriolica just seems to have turned into a pink fluffy poodle puppy recently. That’s just not right. There’s still plenty to say. But, the vitster is just too energy consuming. I just can’t dedicate the time and energy to her bilious nature that I used to. I’m too bloody nice. And if she and I can’t do something properly, we don’t want to do it at all. I'll be blogging something just a bit different with more drawing, more illustration, more art, more funnies, but as ME, Lucy. And Vit is going off to pastures new.






Ironically, it’s entirely her own fault that she’s being retired. Because of Vitriolica I am working on loads of projects. Even though I live outside of the city, only moved here a few years ago and am profoundly shy and deeply unfunny in Portuguese (in English I’m a loudmouthed fishwife... as vitsma and papavit are only too happy to remind me), people and editors (ppm, lp, you're people too...hehehe) have been able to see my work.

Without her, I wouldn’t have got back to work so quickly after having the two small people. I wouldn’t be drawing every single day, something I hadn’t done for years. I wouldn’t have been working on the two magazines and several book projects that I am. I wouldn’t have met dozens and gazillions of great e- and real people from all over the world. I wouldn’t have had an absolute riot.

Now you know that neither Vit nor I do slush... so I just want to say THANK YOU for coming and participating and nominating me for stuff and especially to you portuguesie-types for having a sense of humour about these bifas being really fucking rude about you. In a nice way.
And Madge and Violet say a shy ta-ta too.

(when i know where/how/when/what the new blog is, in the next few days, I’ll post the new address here)

But before we retire Miss Vitriolica, let her just remind you of a few things.

The roads of Portugal are still populated by morons.

Tias. NO!

Betos. NO!

Portuguese snobbery sucks rotten eggs and should be pilloried at every opportunity. (British stupidity/snobbery is one thing, Portuguese stupidity/snobbery is a whole other story)

Molho de ovos, ovos moles, fios de ovos should all be made illegal.

Fado is miserable.

Favas aren’t

What the fuck is that Portuguese “sod you” attitude all about? The attitude that makes people, for example, run to the zebra crossing then cross the road extra extra slowly just because they can and to piss everyone else off.

The Brazilians are the best import ever.... give Vit a Brazilian waiter in a restaurant ANY DAY!

Too many people believe too many old wives’ tales.

Football is fucking stupid. Even if it is a war replacement.

Two hour lunch breaks are just taking the piss.

Lisbon is a fantastic city.

Porto is better.

Setúbal is getting there.

GNR Bigode. hahahahaha.

NO-ONE in the world needs to shower twice a day.

This orgy of consumption of crap in the developed world makes her sick and if we REALLY don’t start taking it seriously, we’re all going to hell and hell will just be a big landfill.

Morangos com Açúcar is rotting the brains of the already rotten brained. We are all going to hell. And hell will just be a big landfill full of rotting strawberries.

You WILL have to give up your car in your lifetime because of fuel shortages and global warming ... get over it.

But most importantly of all, Vit’s buying herself a bata at the feira this weekend.

Beijos.

don't be SCARED

no, it's NOT my new glamourous avatar...it's for Sparky McTorta Donatello's flippin' idea: a self portrait marathon. I mean REALLY. And Natalie's not much help either, with her egging me on and all. What's a girl s'posed to do? Give in, that's what. At the drop of a hat.

Well, I need the painting practise.

Good ol' oil pastels (electric ones, that is).

And yes, my ears are that small, my neck is that thick and that is my bright red nightie.

technorati tags: Art, illustration

Chegou!

Bloguehistória capítulo UM!

Spread the word. :)

metatarsal

The anticipation is too much.

Will he? Won't he?

Wayne is having his foot CAT scanned today in Manchester, with three doctors assessing him. Sky News has heard reports that he has left his hotel in Baden Baden and is on his way to the Airport. It's all so .... so.... so....




...UNBELIEVABLY BANAL.
I DON'T GIVE A FLYING MONKEY CRAP!
I'M SWITCHING OFF THE TELLY, NOT READING ANY NEWSPAPERS FOR THE NEXT MONTH.

Well, they must be useful for SOMETHING

(a series I started last month in Atlântico...you'll get one a month. no more, no less!)

Now, a friend of mine has a started a blog (after I insisted that one has to do such things in the twenty first century, and kept insisting and kept insisting until she gave in!) afotografia is Marjan's blog. Marjan is a professional photographer who has lived in Portugal for a years and takes really gorgeous photos, specialising in kids and animals. Do go and visit her blog and her flickr and her website

Now, COME ON.

The tension is building.

Day by day I feel myself getting closer to erupting, the summer ever nearer, bearing down on me.

I don't know how much longer I can bottle it up.

I don't know if I'll be able to keep my gob shut this year.

I think I'm going to exp........


YOU WILL NOT DIE IF YOU GO IN THE WATER AFTER EATING, EVEN IF IT HAS BEEN LESS THAN AN HOUR. NOR WILL YOU DIE FROM HALTED DIGESTION. NOR WILL YOU BE SICK IF YOU WET YOUR HEAD AFTER LUNCH. Addendum: Ms. Beverly Trayner reminds me of my lapse here: YOU WILL NOT DIE IF YOU TAKE A SHOWER/BATH AFTER EATING. NO. NOT AT ALL.

Unfortunately, by virtue of your reading this blog, you are a sensible and intelligent being and hopefully you don't need to be told this.

Unfortunately this blog is not QUITE as popular as I think it should be (ie. I believe EVERY citizen of Portugual should be reading it by now and at least half of the rest of the world where there is electricity, even the old lady next door who doesn't know what a computer is, let alone a blog) and so this message will go unheard amongst the people of this land who will still tell my children and me this year on the beach that we will die instantly if we even THINK about water after eating.

We do not live in the dark ages. We understand the human body a bit... we aren't all humours and spirits. We should understand at least a LITTLE physiology after the education we are all entitled to (listen, when you're digesting a big lunch, much of your blood system is being put to work in your insides, therefore, less oxygenated blood reaches your limbs. So, if you've eaten a big lunch and then want to go for a hearty, heavy swim, you are at a slightly heightened risk of drowning because you may not maintain your strength in the water OR because you might get cramp and you may sink....but eating a sandwich doesn't mean the kids can't bloody well go and paddle or granny can't put her feet in a bucket, or I can't have a little swim in the swimming pool).

And while we're at it (and yes, I've said it before and I'll say it again and again and again until they drag me kicking and screaming out of the blogosp-here), you CAN'T get a cold from getting rained on or walking with bare feet (at any time of the year).

GODDIT? GEDDIT!

STAND UP TO THE OLD WIVES AND THEIR TALES THIS SUMMER AND JUST SAY "NONSENSE, mother/ mother-in-law/granny/busy-body-next-to-me-on-the-beach (delete where applicable)! I'M GOING IN!"


I have spoken.


(and now that you've been told, I've posted Julie Oakley's very funny illo for chapter 15, thanks Julie)


technorati tags: death, swimming

dia pela vida

The final day of Dia Pela Vida (a Day for Life), a six month stint of fund and awareness raising in our village for Liga Portugesa Contra o Cancro (Portuguese League against Cancer) where phosperescent "candles" were dedicated and lit for people who have died from cancer. If Dia Pela Vida comes to your town/village, get involved. As well as raising shed loads of money, it has done wonders for this very fractured community we have here.

bit fat maggot...

...'cos sometimes on a friday morning there's nothing better to say.

So, today, to get you all out of the commenting closet, here's a question for you:

what totally irrelevant words do you mutter to yourself for no reason when you're on your own?

(or is it just me?)