Wednesday, 1 February 2012

Some utterly incoherent drivel


I can’t talk to you today. My face is tired and my eyes itch.

But I have bound myself to your little faces, I have created an unseen, unwritten and generally ‘un’ contractual agreement to update this page on a regular basis with things that make you giggle or spit or whatever the hell your reaction is to the piffle I vomit onto the interwebspace.

I think that the banality of the conversation I am surrounded by has actually started to disintegrate my skull.

As the 10 minute conversation about gloves continues my brain starts to melt and pour out of my ears, as my cranium caves in.
my nemesis

So I shall tell you a heart warming tale of stuff.

When I was a teeny tiny person, no larger that an adolescent pygmy elephant, my father informed me of the presence of fairies at the bottom of the garden (This is the highpoint of the story, it goes on a downward spiral from here).

I looked for said fairies.

I never found the fairies.

Years later my father denied all of this and insisted that he would never say such a thing to an impressionable child.

However I still have a teeny tiny little bit of me that believes he was telling the truth.

And that, my friends, is how religions are started.

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