As promised, here's last weeks babbling's and ramblings from my Facelessbook week.
Enjoy!
June 6
Today I woke up with 'experiment time' emblazoned upon my minds eye. I didn't know what I was going to experiment with or upon, but as soon as I opened the fridge I suddenly knew.
Experiment 1: Drink large amounts of Pepsi, wait for the burp and just as it arrives close your mouth and stifle it...it burns bubbles through your nose, which is kind of cool and pleasantly painful. Not 50 Shades of Grey pleasantly painful, but well worth repeating kind of painful.
Experiment 2: An experiment from my childhood: who can remember licking the top of a battery and getting a tingly shock and wanting to do it again?
Well I'm here to say that that is all well and good and relatively harmless fun at that, and indulge all you wish to indulge, but please don't take it further like I did and try it out on a tractor battery; you end up in the next field with black fingernails, a sizzling tongue, your fillings start to bubble and your hair smouldering. You also have a silly half conscious grin on your face.
Well that's my experiments done for the day, now I'm off to get a life.
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No word of a lie.
I'm walking home when I see five---count them---five council workers standing around, nodding their heads in a sage like fashion at the same spot in the road.
At this point I can't see what has so captivated their collective imaginations as it is obscured by the three long wheel base transit vans and the council works lorry.
When I get level with them I see that they have cut a cylinder of tarmac out of the road, nothing else, just a simple cylinder of tarmac, and they are studying it as intently as and polar scientist would study an ice core sample for signs of early Mastodons; who knows, maybe that's what they were doing, maybe they were looking for proof of the existence of Neolithic Council Man: perhaps they had found an ancient strip of a Sabre-Tooted hi-vis jacket.
Anyway I carry on past them making a mental note to scrutinise my pole tax form more closely in the future, and go inside my house. Twenty minutes later and they are still out there, standing around, only now they have two core samples of tarmac and seem no closer to solving the conundrum that obviously has them in such a quandary.
An hour later I go to pick up my daughter and they have gone. The trucks have left, the signs saying: 'Warning; Council men in a quandary' has been removed and all that's left are the two cores samples, now put back in the ground; and in the wrong holes at that. How can I tell? Simple, the one with the yellow line going through it is now in the middle of the road.
Anyone got any ideas what the hell they were up to?
June 7
Oh hell! I put a beer in the freezer to make it nice and cold for tonight and forgot to get it out...
Beer ice lolly anyone?"
June 8
This morning it was business as normal for my odd world: when I grabbed the quilt and shook it, I forgot my phone and glasses were buried deep within its unruly folds, I also forgot the window was open. And in a scene that was both worthy of a black and white classic and a master class of trajectory and physics, out they both flew, out through the open window and into the great unkempt wilderness that is my back garden, followed by my open mouthed gaze of horror.
It took me a good deal of time to find them as a magpie had taken my glasses to his nest and was working on 7 across ---a noteworthy promontory of ubiquitous fortune--- from the Times crossword, and my phone has now gone over its monthly text limit due to an unruly pack of centipedes texting their cousins in Brasil weird photos and using the word 'lol' and 'YOLO' to excessive amounts.
Is it only me this kind of stuff happens to?
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So you probably realise I can't go anywhere without something happening to me and today is no different.
The Brecon Beacons were full of walkers and I was on my way down and just happened to be engulfed in a party of twenty or so blokes, none if which I knew. When coming up toward us were three young girls, one of them was constructed out of all decent proportion in the chestular area and her lungs where in direct relation and volume to her build.
So just as we all drew level with her she suddenly announced, and at the top of her inconsiderable lung capacity, that: 'Oh my god, this top is hopeless, my boobs nearly popped out'
All I can say is that first thing on Monday morning twenty or so doctors will be consulted about suspected whiplash.
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On my way home last night a car full of tanked up youngsters asked me for directions to the Epynt range---an army training area that is also used for rallying---I gave them directions and asked if there was a rally on, the driver said "Dunno we're going for the doggin' and they drove off.
Its not often I'm left speechless...
June 9
Just heard my first complaint about it being too hot today. I stated to the person in the shop that you can never be too thin, too rich or too hot. She disagreed vehemently with me and there we stood, toe to toe, like two verbal gladiators in the Roman coliseum.
The discussion fluctuated between my arguments for and her protestations to the contrary.
Eventually we thrashed out a statement we can both live with and it goes as follows:
'You can never be too thin, too rich or too hot unless you fall into a deep fat fryer...then you are allowed to complain about it being a smidgen on the testy side'
If only governments were as reasonable the world would, I feel, be a happier place...though with possibly with less deep fat fryers.
June 11
Well today has been a perfectly normal day. Nothing odd has happened. Well nothing too out of the ordinary: a fly watching me draw is normal right? Then having the fly follow me to have dinner, nothing abnormal there right? Then have the fly beg for scraps and me feed it. That's perfectly normal right? Okay so its been a perfectly normal day for ME.
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All penciled and ready to be inked in the morning...wouldn't it be nice to have the shoemaker's elves do the whole page in the night...I'll leave porridge out just in case...the little dears will do anything for porridge...or so I've been told
Note: The elves didn't turn up and the porridge went cold although I did eat it as I was frustrated and I like porridge.
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Thank you
before the sad demise of the Dandy. (I'm pretty sure it wasn't ALL my fault).
