They believed they could fly

"Dying with dignity" is not a phrase know to Spanish chickens. Since the poor dears aren't alive and squawking anymore and therefore can't protest theirs rights , I thought I'd give them a little helping hand to insure that Spain imports some more Romanian workers to make them a little more presentable for our Sunday roast.




































( disclaimer: this is the result of not leaving a pocoloco village for four weeks running. If this post in anyway upset you either report me to the RSPCA, or buy me a plane ticket)

Since I've been gone

I've been a prodigal son and deserted my blog for the riches of the real world. In family lingo that translates as "fund raising and traveling across Europe in a caravan overloaded with surfing equipment". I don't have time to go into the details of how we survived mentally and hygienically for 3 days in a car with a constant intake of red bull, coffee and a continuous output of undignified language aimed at the French road system. Let the pictures tell the story of my last 6 weeks of frivolous living ( ahem I wish)

first of all a spot of modeling (i.e. having your hair being made to look like a bunch of pubes by a hairdresser who thinks its all "gorgeous darling".)























had a touching family reunion

















took on the man's role for nina's sake























made sarah's cake and blew out her candle















took loving, post-shepherding photos with emily ( only certain people will get this)

















stayed with the frenchies and partook of their cheese

















and feasted on vast amounts of junk food( hence the overjoyed preschooler face)