Monday
I manage to alleviate the 9 to 5 drudgery and break the monotonous tedium by working for half an hour. Either side of what I can only assume was a head-fit I discover the joys of Mountain Glaring. I believe that I won 3-0. Tomorrow we will have a re-match.
Friday
I have been unconscious for the 4 days. Terrible dreams of waking, going to work, coming home, eating tea, watching television and going to bed filled my torpor. I wake to find that Dutch and Liverpool football maestro Boudwain Zenden has been implicated in a kidnapping case. The prisoner, also known as the man in the paper bag has been dubbed the prisoner of Zenden. This is not true.
We have visitors, our neighbours Lothario and Neophyte Jenkins. Lothario has the unfortunate canine habit of dry humping unguarded legs. He isn't a dog.
We hear about a lumberjack who had received a woman's kidney in a transplant and now enjoys cleaning. He's suing the local authority over it. I bet he can't pass a shoe shop either.
Saturday
We shop at Ham-on-Rye. It is an urban social experiment designed by Hamfist Brown, Capability's great grand nephew in law. There are no shops.
Sunday
I am stuck.I am just three minutes away from home. I can see the door, smell the knackwurst boiling on the stove. I can even see the marks on the tyrolean spar finish where the penguins attacked last summer. But my knee has locked again and my leg acts as a pivot, throwing me in circles. I try riding my bi-psycle but it has a mind of its own and throws me into the rheen. Make a note to get one of those new-fangled motive scooters.
Saturday
Again. I call Curly Frumphifflig to see if he could come out to play. He said he couldn't as he was washing his cock. He lavishes far too much attention on those chickens. I begin to read Henceforth Spatula's blog
Thursday
I'm not superstitious but today I saw 28 magpies, if you add them all up. What does that entitle me to?
I manage to alleviate the 9 to 5 drudgery and break the monotonous tedium by working for half an hour. Either side of what I can only assume was a head-fit I discover the joys of Mountain Glaring. I believe that I won 3-0. Tomorrow we will have a re-match.
Friday
I have been unconscious for the 4 days. Terrible dreams of waking, going to work, coming home, eating tea, watching television and going to bed filled my torpor. I wake to find that Dutch and Liverpool football maestro Boudwain Zenden has been implicated in a kidnapping case. The prisoner, also known as the man in the paper bag has been dubbed the prisoner of Zenden. This is not true.
We have visitors, our neighbours Lothario and Neophyte Jenkins. Lothario has the unfortunate canine habit of dry humping unguarded legs. He isn't a dog.
We hear about a lumberjack who had received a woman's kidney in a transplant and now enjoys cleaning. He's suing the local authority over it. I bet he can't pass a shoe shop either.
Saturday
We shop at Ham-on-Rye. It is an urban social experiment designed by Hamfist Brown, Capability's great grand nephew in law. There are no shops.
Sunday
I am stuck.I am just three minutes away from home. I can see the door, smell the knackwurst boiling on the stove. I can even see the marks on the tyrolean spar finish where the penguins attacked last summer. But my knee has locked again and my leg acts as a pivot, throwing me in circles. I try riding my bi-psycle but it has a mind of its own and throws me into the rheen. Make a note to get one of those new-fangled motive scooters.
Saturday
Again. I call Curly Frumphifflig to see if he could come out to play. He said he couldn't as he was washing his cock. He lavishes far too much attention on those chickens. I begin to read Henceforth Spatula's blog
Thursday
I'm not superstitious but today I saw 28 magpies, if you add them all up. What does that entitle me to?
Current Mood:
recumbent
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