Feast your sparkly peepers on those beauties above. Those juicy, luscious positive integers. All angular and masculine in their definition.
Apparently 444 is the angels’ number. A number that signifies the gathering of ethereal Seraphim all around you, sent to guide through your thoughts, visions, feelings. Show you signs. Things you see with your physical eyes.
THINGS YOU SEE WITH YOUR PHYSICAL EYES. Right now my physical eyes are like pissholes in the snow – as my Great Grannie Annie would say – they are seeing sweet Fanny Adams at 444 in the morning. Yes, I was roused from my delicate, ladylike, non-dribbling slumber at 04:44.
Pickle was AWAKE and when Pickle is AWAKE, the world and his neighbours are AWAKE. Any attempt to ignore the across-the-landing grunting results in a gradual build-up of loud whispers, eventually reaching a crescendo of epic wailing.
Oh AND …..444 is a very powerful number by all accounts. Not as powerful as the stinking headache raging through my fod right now.
So I am UP. In all fairness, I have only been up since about 05:02.
I have a brew. I intend to have many more.
But as a forewarning: if you see me this morning, I suggest you don’t speak to me. Don’t even look at me. Certainly DO NOT smile at me all fresh-faced, bright-eyed and cleared-headed. My clenched fist may have an involuntary spasm and land on your mush.
Top o’ the mornin’ to ya!
*slumps into brew no. 444