Just had the most stressful couple of days in my tiny wee life. I’ll tell you about them some day. By then they might seem funnier.
Wales is beckoning me. Offline for a week or more. Proper information and a possible return to regular missives may follow. Or not.
I spent a considerable amount of my birthday in a house where no one knew it was my birthday, mopping up the raw sewage that had washed into my room and onto some of my comics.
As a condensation of the preceding thirty years into a single event, it seems oddly appropriate.
Note – not a metaphor, fact.
Ever wonder what an elephant being electrocuted by Thomas Edison would look like?
Wonder no more! Topsy was my father’s nickname at school. I can’t help but wonder if the two were connected . . .
Twice this week I have managed to convince myself that one of my woolier jumpers will protect me from the rain. I don’t really know how I have convinced myself of this. Both times the thought has entered my mind have been shortly after waking up and hearing showers mentioned in weather forecasts, which at least explains the extra layer. But why I’m grabbing something fluffy and entirely polyester in an effort to stay dry I can not explain. Must be getting old . . .
It’s been a busy kind of week, without much in the way of real spare time or internet access to speak of. So here’s a brief round up of intriguing matters afore the weekend.
If like me you’re stuck not going to Edinburgh this festival season, why not amuse yourself with the DVD available from here. Only a tenner (plus p & p) for the month of August. Undoubtedly perfect for your own amusement or as a gift for someones upcoming birthday (he hinted with subtlty of a bull elephant . . .)
Don’t learn the effects of drinking a large bottle of Pimms on your own in the space of an evening first hand. Really, don’t.
I shall be making my annual attempt at attending Caption over the weekend. Will I make it through the door this Year? Only time will tell.
Jumping out of a ground floor window to lock a broken gate can lead to thigh bruising if you don’t angle your re-entry carefully.
I shall be gaining a new address shortly. Anyone owing me any post should try and send it within the next week if they actually want me to receive it. You know who you are.
Another massive video giveaway may be on the cards soon. Watch this space, my passive monkey children.
Brilliant title for a spoof on Love’s Labour’s Lost, but not being terribly familiar with the play I’m buggered if i can do a thing with it. The Wikipedia synopsis proves unstimulating enough to get my comedy synapses firing either. So I turn it over to you, dear reader. Amuse me. Amuse me now with your faux Shakespearean pastiche! You have your title – now go forth and funny at me!!!
So I attempted to invite a dozen or so people to an event yesterday using dirty, evil Facebook. Creating the event went well and seemed remarkably simple. Perhaps too simple. It turned out to be too complicated for my simple mind and none of the invitations were sent out until I noticed the gaff this afternoon. Oh well, I shall content myself with the three figure invites sent out by the other hosts and will leave you with this rather spendid pastiche .
Few things to keep your tiny minds busy. The phone and internet lines in my abode appear to have been cut a month early, so it seems unlikely that I’m going to get as much online time as I normally would over the next few days. This means that my ability to invite folks to both of the parties I’m in the process of organising has been slightly curtailed. This will hopefully be rectified in the ‘morrow. In the meantime please amuse yourselves with the prospect of November 8.
