Monday, April 10, 2017

Cartoonist & Writers Diary III

And here's a little more from my life. My Odd life. My odd life that doesn't seem to happen to anybody else but me.

Enjoy, my friends



Well I'm away for a few days and guess what? Stuff is happening again.
I am staying at the beautiful and picturesque Lake Vrynwy Hotel and it's blowing a freakin' gale out there, and I mean a feeeeekiiiiiinnnnn gale.
So much so that I warned Stefka to be careful when she went out for a cigarette. But she, being Bulgarian and having lived through communism, brushed my concerns aside with a grunt of typical eastern block swarthyness, as chicken-hearted.
I said fine and went into to day room and waited for her to return after having dealt with her nicotine fix.
Two minutes later found me sitting in a leather backed Chesterfield chair, pretending to be a sophisticate, as I sat reading a copy of the Times while swirling a cut crystal glass of Brandy that had been warmed from a poker that sat in the flames of the giant fire---and I would've carried it off if someone hadn't told me I was holding the newspaper upside down.
No sooner had I corrected the paper than the mother of all wind gusts hit the hotel and two seconds later my Bulgarian fancy came flying past the window with a half smoked cigarette in one hand and an expression on her face that led the onlooker to believe that this little impromptu fly-by-night wasn't entirely her idea.
The whole room watched in stunned silence as she flew out across the lake on powerful thermals, like an eastern block Mary Poppins. Only when she was a little cartwheeling dot on the horizon did the whole room galvanise itself into action.
We eventually caught up with her a few miles up stream as she lay tangled like a discarded kite in the branches of a giant Douglas Fir.
Next time perhaps she will take my advice and not struggle with me so much when I try to strap her to the hotel's down pipe every time she wants a cigarette.

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I had just sat down to a pleasant cup of tea. I was marvelling at the peace and solitude of a largely drunken town as it slept.
I shifted gently in my seat and something caught my eye.
I double took and what I saw alarmed me.
Black, hairy and seemingly many legged and stuck to the side of my trousers.
I leapt into the air, all thoughts of somnolific locals washed from my mind on a tidal wave of liquid adrenaline. As I batted and swatted at the hairy, and seemingly many legged thing, my knee came up and collided with the table. The cup of very hot tea rose gently skyward and arced lazily above me. It took aim and deposited it's scalding contents and two sugars over over my leg.
I yelled in protest and the hairy, and seemingly many legged thing, dropped from my leg. That was when I seized the chance to end it life.
I leapt up and down several times and cursed it's very existence. The room reverberated to the sound of my crashing thuds and flowers shuddered in their vases, but still I continued with the remorseless onslaught. Up and down I thumped, up and down I crashed.
After a good twenty minutes of this I slowed down. My heart rate slowed down and my adrenaline returned to its pre-cup of tea levels.
And that was when I took a closer look at the hairy, and seemingly many legged thing. And when I did, I wished I had taken a closer look before. If I had, my leg wouldn't be throbbing with what feels like third degree burns and I wouldn't have savagely attacked and dismembered a disguarded fake aye lash.
I really shouldn't be left unsupervised.


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