A Day In The Scarlett Life…

I’m all kinds of excited today because finally, after 18 months of you all telling me that I need to get my own pin up girl, here she is.

scarlet wonderland pin up

Isn’t she pretty?! Hand painted by the fabulous Dina Cuthbertson – who didn’t even bat an eyelid when I threw ‘coke can rollers’ into the mix.

So, today – because I’m too busy cooing over my brand new pinup to write  a proper post… and because everyone needs a little pick-me-up on a Tuesday – I thought I’d share some of my favourite stuff from around the internet this week.

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This awful but heartwarming story about an elephant rescued after years of suffering made me ugly-cry on the train.

You can buy fake werewolf babies now. And I need one.

Nothing says ‘Happy Birthday’ better than hiring an evil clown to stalk your kids for a week.

If you liked this, then you’ll LOVE this. The chimp riding the capybara is a particular highlight.

Good work, Shane.

Just in case you ever needed reminding why killing a lion is the most cowardly thing you can do.

Forced to go to a wedding? How to make sure your tears look like the happy kind. (On a side note, the only thing funnier than the Reductress is people who don’t understand satire.)#

Until next time… x

7 comments

Yoga is absolutely not for pussies.

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“At dawn, we ride.”

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This isn’t a proper post, but it was far too important not to share. Drop everything you’re doing, it doesn’t matter anymore. Because THIS is happening RIGHT NOW. “At dawn, we ride.” For those of

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Death eaters forever.

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 There are few things I love more than getting emails from you lovely people who read this blog. Over the last couple of years I’ve had some lovely ones that have given me all the

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I embarrassed myself a lot last week.

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I don’t generally get embarrassed. Not because I’m one of these people who claim to have thick skin, then go and rock themselves to sleep while replaying every humiliating thing they’ve ever done – but

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I don’t think my doctor enjoys my company.

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The other Tuesday I was sat in the Doctor’s surgery. I’d had a bit of a sniffle for nearly a week and – as as your run of the mill hypochondriac – I assumed I

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