Get out of the Rain, out of the Shadows and into the Sun (well, kind of, the Sun of blogland, anyway)*

Barney James, Dave and The Loris are: a rather shy and yet confident sheep (they are so fickle), a pauciloquent punk dinosaur who wants to be a dragon (pronounced drag*in) and their adoptive, erm, me (The Loris), respectively. 

Heilun Coo on Mull, on shore of Loch Scridain
Copyright: Ribbons,Manson,Smart (RMS) images

Barney J followed me home one day when my friend JM was over from Australia. I think it was because we were talking about going up to Scotland in search of Heilun Coo. I suddenly found myself looking into the eyes of this curly lamb and, well, he did ask if he could just trawl around the toy store with us... And then he asked if he could come to the Highlands, well, how could I say no to that ball of fluff? It was only recently that Barney James actually told me his name. He was just known as The Lamb with No Name for the whole of the Scotland trip. See, Sheep are fickle creatures.

A distant relative of Dave - this poor 'gator was
hoping to snack on tiny tots the day The Loris, Dr Goth &
The Grizzly Polar went to Drusilla's...

Dave, however, is another story altogether. He is much smaller than the Barnster, but is full of confidence - maybe it's because he's been around for several millennia. He is a Baryonyx, which, for the uninitiated, or non-Greek speaking among you, means "Large Claw" (not sure why, he doesn't seem to have any claws at all, although I have a sneaking suspicion that he keeps them well hidden). Dave says (well, he communicates through a series of what sound like belches rather than roars, and he coughs a lot, as he tries to breathe fire... he's very 'special'), anyway, he says that his parents ate mostly fish. Mostly Dave just eats whatever is on my plate when I'm not looking. Dave's quite a success story in some ways, he was trapped under a Triceratops butt in a pile of dino fluff in a box at the Natural History Museum in London, so my friend Dr Goth paid a release fee for him and we sprang him from his prison.

So there you go. That's us. Oh wait, the boys want to say something...

A box of frogs...

Hello there, blogsters, it's Barney Jim McTavish III here, or is it XXXIII, I can never remember, oh well... Anyway, ah yes, The Loris has forgotten to write anything about her. Don't tell her, but that silly overgrown alligator and I think that TL is mad as a box of frogs on amphetamines. (You'd better not mention the drugs either, she doesn't know that we know all these things - we go out on the town when she is busy studying or sleeping.) The Loris sleeps a LOT. Just not at night time. She talks to her other friends (pfffft) and we overhears that she has to take something called The Happy Pills and a whole bunch of other strange pills, all of which are legal. I never knew that before. Dave is keeping a beady eye on her. (It is a proper bead too, like mine.) The Loris looks after us very well and we are well fed and excited about being treated like REAL toys.

Oh no, Dave wants to say something...




*Belch*cough*...... (it's repeated a few times. He just says he likes The Loris but not to tell her that he drank her wine...)

Baaaaaye for now!
/Baaaney James



Thanks boys for your kind words. :) But Barney James, I think there is plenty of evidence here that you and your 'friend' were the culprits what pilfered the pink stuff .... Tsk Tsk!

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*No, not blatant lyric steals, honest... (But you'd better get used to it, this rabble are just a little bit menTal. Just quietly.)