The Wunderkammer of the Mild Colonial Boy, Esq., a Reactionary Tory Gentleman, who armed only with a Steampowered Babbage Engine and Pure Intentions, wanders the Time Streams and Aetheric Plane gathering an Eccentric Hodgepodge of Curiousities, Frivolities, Whimsicalities and Nonsense.
Q. Why is your Tumblelog called "My Ear-Trumpet Has Been Struck by Lightning"?
A. Because "My Grandmother's Ear-Trumpet Has Been Struck by Lightning" wouldn't fit in the available space.
So, it’s been one year since I started dating this boy of mine, and oh god, no one wants to hear someone be all sappy and happy about their relationship, so instead, here’s a scene from the movie we were watching when we first kissed. Nothing spells romance like dirty, cramped cinemas and the cheers of senior citizens waiting to see Michael Caine shoot some hooligan in the kneecaps.