Where can I get fur to put on my stuffed horse?

An internet user googled the title of this post and clicked on my blog.  Maybe on purpose.  I love that.  It is so random.  That somewhere in cyberspace an internet user has a stuffed horse, I'm thinking life-sized here or course, is just great!  And that person found Mrs Crocodile!  What are the odds?  Oh the mind races!  And where would I put a stuffed horse if I had one?  Would I be able to carry it up my four flights of stairs?  Where could I put it in my living room? In my office?  And what does that user do with the stuffed horse that he or she needs new fur on it?  Is it natural wear and tear?  Or could you, if you had a stuffed horse, use it to entertain your friends when they come over for drinks?  You could throw themed parties and ask everyone to dress up like John Wayne.  Oh it's too good.  I think I know what I want for my birthday, but I can't decide between life-sized stuffed horse or life-sized bull.
Yours, seriously branching out, and anyway, I might need it for a show someday...
Mrs Crocodile
PS Just in case another user accidentally finds my blog by googling the title of this blog, here is a link, the business is called Ravishing Beasts-I'm not making this stuff up:
http://www.ravishingbeasts.com/horses/

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Awash with "Doubt"s and Mr Zog's Sex Wax...

There has always been something reassuring about being as old as Mr. Zog's Sex Wax.  Originating from similar nether geographic regions fills me with pride.  But then, sometimes I think my ideas are weird, uncertainty sets in and there is no going back to being certain.

This is why I would like to illustrate the connection between the beautifully crafted writing of the play Doubt by John Patrick Shanley and surfing.  You thought the play was all about a Catholic school and two nuns who suspect a priest of mishandling a pupil, but you could say it's about finally getting to stand up on your surfboard after waiting in the water all morning.  You are up.  You're feeling good.  Mr. Zog provides a great grip for your feet, you feel confident and exhilarated, which is an absolutely wonderful position to be in.  You look down at the rocks zipping by through the glassy water underneath your board.  They look closer than they are.  Doubt, as is surfing, is the dawning on you, that although this ride is great, you could fall and crash into the rocks.  You lean forward and feel that you are about to lose your balance.  You steady yourself again and enjoy the ride.  Still standing feels great.  (Out of nowhere you hear the words of Doubt's Father Flynn: "Even if you feel certainty, it is an emotion, not a fact"). Quite suddenly, you don't know where you are.  You are underwater looking for the way up.  You burst your head out into the air again.  You take your first breath as if you've just been born.  You've just wiped out.  This may involve getting sand under your eye-lids and in other unspeakable places.
Oh dear readers, I have been awash with "Doubt".  I have not written because I have been busy, not surfing but something almost as good: making costumes for a well-written piece.  You can see Upstart Entertainment's version of it when it opens on the 18th of March at the Schönes Haus in Basel, in English, with Stephanie Németh-Parker, Meredith Buser, Frédérique Anklin and Sharon Harris, directed by Andy Tobler.
Check out the web-site: Upstart Entertainment
This crocodile has all her own teeth.  That much I know.
Yours,
Mrs Crocodile

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