Thursday, 12 July 2012

Day Twelve

Day Twelve.

Supposed to be travelling the country and enjoying myself tomorrow.

Supposed to be. Meh.

With Lucy, the girl with the large chest from the shop.

Only she rang to say she can't come.
Something about a dead parent or something.

To be fair I wasn't really listening as Deal or No Deal was on and I think I've worked out a system. Turns out if you pick box 12 first and then go for 4, 9, 11 and 5, that leaves you with a 97.2% chance of the 10p box being box 8. Don't ask me how it works because it is too complicated for modern science.
So anyway, Lucy's mum or dad or fish is dying so she can't come on my adventure and I suddenly don't want to go.
Not like I wanted her to come anyway. Not at all. I mean, if the simple occasion of a dying old person is enough to distract her from an important life changing adventure then what's going to happen if we spot a flock of starlings near the M42? Exactly. Utter nonsense. So I told her it was perfectly fine that she wasn't coming and if she ever needed to talk to anyone she should give me a call and open box 3 which contained £10,000. She hung up on me after that, as clearly something was up. Probably left some toast under the grill or something.
Remembering I myself had left toast under the grill, I put out the fire and, seeing that I had already put eight pairs of underpants in a carrier bag, I decided that tomorrow will be the day for starting my adventure, big chested companion or not. Yes.
Then I had a Goblin meat pie sandwich. And a bag of jelly babies.
Liam the Question phoned at about half past two, when I was finishing breakfast and stopping crying and suggested we go to the pub because apparently if you hit the vending machine in the right place you get free mars bars. I am meeting him in twenty minutes. Have decided to take it easy tonight though and stay away from the booze. Especially since I'm adventuring tomorrow. Anyway, see you soon.

Pash j.

Has an alcohil and

Lucy dead dad dog horse cow pig parrot invisible cow
Cows invisible danger
Liam Question is called Liam Queation

because he ask queatiobs and his name is liam. Today he asking why sausage is called sausage and not meat tube. An then has beer gin gin cocktails.

Inventioned new cocktail maybe you try it at hoome.

Pog's cocktail by Pogg
Some vodk
Same archers
Some blue curacibaobaicao
Some pernod
Some vodka
Put inn pinter glass and adda umbella
Taste bad but hahahahahagagagagagag

Goin to volmit now. You can vomit if yuo like. It is funby


Go on avdenture in morning
Slepe now

Wednesday, 11 July 2012

Day Eleven

Day Eleven

The first day of preparation for our adventure went as follows...

0700... press snooze button
0710... press snooze button again
0720... press snooze button again
0730... set alarm for 0830
0830... press snooze button
0839... wake up, go to toilet
0840... get off toilet to turn alarm off, go back to toilet
0850... get off toilet to turn alarm off properly, rather than just pressing the snooze button, go back to toilet
0913... brush teeth, comb hair, floss teeth, clean out ears, shave
0917... get off toilet, wash hands
0920... make breakfast (frosties, milk)
0921... eat breakfast (frosties, milk)
0932... make breakfast (bacon butty, red sauce)
0941... eat breakfast (bacon butty, red sauce, bag of crisps, Apple)
0955... go to toilet, read book about engines (in case car breaks on adventure)
1009... look at watch, get excited by the time turning to 1010.
1010... excitement.
1027... get off toilet, wash hands.
1030... accidentally turn television on, accidentally watch cbeebies.
1428... turn television off.
1429... make lunch (goblin meat pudding x 3, beans, peeled plum tomatoes, fried mushrooms, birds eye potato waffles x 5, bag of Quavers, pint of hot ribena)
1444... eat lunch (goblin meat pudding x 3, beans, peeled plum tomatoes, fried mushrooms, birds eye potato waffles x 5, pint of hot ribena) -leave bag of Quavers as they are a bit crushed up and I don't like that.
1455... eat Quavers, disappointed by crushed up bits.
1500... toilet
1517... nap
1912... the Titanic sinks.
1957... wake up, go for a run (put bins out in rain)
2001... turn television on, watch television.
0114... turn television off. Toilet.
0122... bed.
0311... wake up, bad dream about badgers and postmen.
0444... oh four four four. I'm tired.
0511... sleep. Set alarm for 0700 for tomorrow.

Today has been an excellent day of preparation, I'm sure you agree.

Thursday, 5 July 2012

Day Ten

Ugh... Day Ten Probably. Oh good grief my mind hurts. Why did I drink the whiskey? I don't even like whiskey! It tastes of horrible and it makes my brain expand and fill my head and I hurt so much. My legs hurt and my eyes hurt and my soul hurts and I know I will never drink again. Not even if it is cough syrup. Because I very rarely get a cough anyway. Besides, strepsils are pretty damn lovely. Owwwwwwwww. Excuse me a moment. Back now. I have many bacon butties from the butty van down the road. Red sauce. Obviously. I feel much better now. I call Lucy and she gives me the silent treatment. Then I realise my phone isn't plugged in and I plug it in and then Lucy gives me the silent treatment because apparently I called her up at 3am to ask her to 'jump up and down in a wibbly booby top'. I am pretty sure I was asleep or drunk, but I have been reliably informed never to argue with a woman on matters that one does not have physical evidence to hand, for example CCTV footage, the Times Concise Atlas of the World (c.1988, before the collapse of the Soviet Union when everything had cool names) or a note from a surgeon. Previous experience tells me that having a letter from a surgeon, stating that a sturgeon is actually a type of fish, is actually very handy. She accepts my apology (I tell her I was off my face on booze I found and I she says she believes me.) We arrange to meet at the cafe in town and, since I doubt I am in a fit state to drive, I catch the bus and arrive right on time. Twenty minutes later, I realise that 'the cafe in town' was actually a very vague suggestion and there are actually many cafes. Eventually I find her at the fourth cafe I look at, and she accepts my explanation that I didn't know which cafe she was referring to on the phone. Also I buy her a large slice of Victoria sponge and she has a creamy moustache for the rest of our conversation, as I feel it would be much too rude to comment as to the state of her top lip, especially after the whole jumping up and down phone call, which may have occurred, although I may have only dreamed it. We discuss our plans for travelling the country and enjoying ourselves and write a great many things down on a piece of paper. Which I have lost. But rest assured we got all the details down, as well as a foolproof scheme for scaring away rogue buffalo, should we happen to meet any. It is decided that after two days of preparation and making sure the drugs and whiskey are fully out of my system we will make our way to our first destination which will be I make my way home, spending an hour trying to find my car in the car park before remembering that I caught the bus. Needless to say, the police officer was very kind to let me off with a mild telling off following my slight incident of 'trying-to-break-into-a-car-that-wasn't-mine-but-it-looked-like-mine-and-my-keys-very-nearly-opened-the-lock-and-i-really-shouldn't-have-picked-up-that-half-a-brick'. Eventually I arrive home, where I have two tins of cold beans and a sandwich (spam, pork luncheon meat, Bacon grill, Campbell's Meatballs (gravy) and cress) and then retire to bed. I wake up with wind at 3am, and watch shopping tv until I fall asleep. I also buy a fantastic 10-in-1 kitchen appliance that I have no idea what it is but it comes with 8 free spoons and a lifetime guarantee.

Thursday, 28 June 2012

Day Nine

Day Nien

I find wiksy in the cufboard and accident drimk alll off it and whoopsie





Fell off soffa on bum
Going shoop too bye crisp and tommatos.

Tommatos arr a friut not a vegertables
Vegetavles are horid don make mee eta vegatiblrs mummmy plese dont.

Not bothet wit shop now find crusps in cupbord too netx too Wickedy. Crisssssssssssssssssaaaaaaaps
Bef falver crips

Rings Lucy fat boobs on tellyphon
No anwsrr becase was using cucumver

Hahahqgq cumber iss not a pone! Hahahahaha.

Thin might has bap npw!
Nap on the soffa

Fel of sofer again.

Napp on flore

Thursday, 21 June 2012

Day Eight

My leg started twitching this morning at 2pm when I woke up. I don't know why it was twitching it just seemed to want to do a one-legged version of the Madness 'Baggy Trousers' dance. After some time of watching it do this, and after a short period of joining in with my other leg so it didn't feel left out, I slapped it until it stopped.
By this point it was nearly lunchtime (3pm) and as I had missed breakfast I decided to have a picnic in bed. Making myself smiley face sandwiches (ham as the face, ready salted hula hoops as eye/nose/mouth, ketchup as smile and eyebrows) and a mug of coffee (milk, no sugar, big spoon for stirring, it feels like a big spoon day) I settled down to eat.
The doorbell rang and after a moment or two of wiping ketchup stains from my male breast areas I go to answer the door. It is Lucy, the girl from the shop with the large chest. She says she has come round to check on me, having been away for a few days and being told about my 'episode'. I can only think this refers to my drug-fuelled world domination by biscuits situation that I keep trying to forget, and invite her in.
Naturally, my living room is incredibly tidy, and everything is in alphabetical order, except the lightswitch, which is in the corner by the A items, but which I can't move because the last time I tried I don't remember much except I had black fingers and I had landed in the kitchen and bruised my sternum. I didn't even know I had a sternum but apparently everybody does. It is some sort of a bone.
Lucy sits on the couch (not sofa, as it is in the C section. I appreciate I could have called it a chair or cushioned seating surface, but I like the warm feeling 'couch' makes on my tongue as I say it.) and I offer her a cup of coffee. It turns out that she doesn't like coffee as it 'makes her mental' and I laugh and wonder what she means as I clean the crumbs that she might see under the microwave away.
She looks confused when I deliver a cup of tea with a garnish of grated carrot and chewing gum but I explain that this is because I don't have any biscuits in. She smiles and takes two sugar lumps from the bowl I had just found in the cupboard (the sugar lumps I had made a few days earlier when I accidentally dropped the sugar jar in the sink and spent several hours chopping the solidified sugar lump into cubes (alas I could not get them all to equal dimensions, and apologise for this.)) (I also feel I should apologise for the use of double brackets there, as I feel this is poor penmanship and I don't even know if penmanship is a word. Is a writer a penman? Because I'm typing this. Not using a pen. Anyway.)
Lucy finishes her cup of tea and delights in her carrot garnish. She leaves the chewing gum as it is an Airwaves eucalypyus flavour one and she says she doesn't have a blocked nose.
After a very long silence (not actually a silence, as we are watching Bargain Hunt on the telly) I decide to take a bold step. I take a deep breath and ask her to accompany me on my adventure of travelling the country and enjoying myself and she says she would love to. I am slightly put aback by this as I have memorized her work timetable and she is actually due in work every day except Tuesday from 10am til 4pm, but she tells me that she is actually on holiday for the next two weeks (minus four days, which she had already had as a holiday) and she has nothing else better to do. I begin to suggest better things for her to do when she interrupts me and says there is nothing she would rather do than go on an adventure with me. She hugs me and leaves and I am left confused. Really I only invited her as I have no idea how to read the map and now I'm worried that suddenly we are on some sort of date. I suppose that can't be all bad, as she does have a very nice chest and her shoes are well polished.
I realise my trousers are on backwards and go to bed for a lie down and to read the Toolstation catalogue that just arrived.
Before I go to sleep I order a selection of drills ranging from 3mm up to 12.5mm. I don't really need them but I am quite pleased with myself.
It is 3am when I wake up and realise the MISC ART is still in my bed and I appear to have drooled on Keith Chegwin's left eye. Then I realise it isn't Keith Chegwin, it just looks like him, albeit somewhat alarmed and with a drooled on eye.

Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Day Seven

Where did all that food come from last night? I haven't been to the shop since the never-again-mentioned urine slippage incident that I will never mention again and I didn't mention just then you imagined it.
Oh good grief, did I go to the shops in my drug induced stupor? I check my wallet for receipts. Yes, it seems I must have done, spending £106.23 on food and £54.99 on something listed as 'MISC ART'. I check the cupboards and find them well stocked, secretly complimenting my off-my-face alter-ego on remembering to buy the correct ingredients to make the lasagne I have mentally planned for dinner tonight. I note that no biscuits have been bought, placing the timing of my shopping list probably some time before the strange note I had left myself, telling myself to obtain lots of biscuits.
I then begin searching the house for MISC ART, finding nothing. I do, however manage to find £3.21 in loose change, a snail and a pamphlet detailing the advantages of eating more zinc.
I take the snail outside and place it beind the bins, where there is a considerable amount of rotten lettuce from an accident I had with a sandwich about two weeks ago. It was a very boring accident, and I won't bore you with the details, just saying that it was a waste of a fantastic sandwich.
Now I want a sandwich. I go to my mysteriously well-stocked kitchen and create my favourite culinary masterpiece. I now present to you, in full, the dish I like to call
1 x Barbecue Beef Flavour Super-noodles
1 x tin Peeled Plum Tomatoes
1 x tin Baked Beans
1 x pack of Bacon
2 x slices of 'toastie' thickness white bread
Heinz Tomato Ketchup
Salad (a little slice of cucumber, maybe cress if you are posh)

1. Chop the bacon up into tiny rectangles (or a shape of your choice)
2. Fry bacon.
3. Cook Super-noodles as per instructions.
4. Add beans, tomatoes, a generous squirt of ketchup, pepper and the cooked bacon to the super-noodles.
5. Butter the bread and put on a plate.
6. Pour your beany bacony tomatoey noodley mixture onto one slice of the bread. Put the second slice on top and press down.
7. Add a little bit of salad next to the sandwich to stop women complaining.
8. Eat sandwich with a garnish of monster munch or skips and a large mug of coffee (blue flavoured instant Kenco, milk, no sugar - I'm sweet enough)
I am probably obliged to state that other noodle and ketchup brands are available. But they taste of shit.

After eating my delicious dinner and wiping all the bits I spilled down my jumper off, I decide I need a nap and make my way to bed.
When I jump into bed I find I am laying on top of a large canvas print featuring the alarmed face of Keith Chegwin.
MISC ART indeed.

Saturday, 16 June 2012

Day Six

Day 6
Discovered what day it was today by going to the shop and buying a paper. Really I don't see why I had to pay 35p to buy something just to know the date, but I felt guilty reading it in the shop.
I have decided to put my travelling and enjoying adventure on hold until the big purple and yellow bruise on my side has gone. On the off chance I am strip searched by Welsh border staff I don't want to have to explain that I slipped in old lady urine then woke up in compost. I hardly believe it myself and I was there, although for the latter part I was off my face on a biscuit rampage.
Still haven't found a green marker pen and wonder perhaps if colour-blindness was a side effect of the medicine. I check the note in my pocket and sure enough the note is written in green marker pen. This is a confusing mystery that I doubt will ever be solved. Then I find a green marker pen in the kitchen drawer, and I remember buying it last week so I could draw some grass on the patio.
The phone rings and I answer it with a pleasant "hello!", choosing to end my greeting with an exclamation mark rather than a more quizzical question mark, as this makes me sound more friendly and casual.
My happy response meets silence, and then after an uncomfortable pause I find myself talking to a foreign gentleman who says he is from Windows Security Team and he informs me that there is a problem with my computer.
I laugh and tell him I originally thought he was referring to the windows of my house which I can confidentally say are very well secure, being secured with lockable handles and additional security bolts. There is another pause and he starts talking again, telling me that there is a problem with my computer.
I don't think he understood my original confusion so I repeat myself, this time ending with a loud laugh to emphasise the humour. He repeats himself again, and now I think he is being a little thick so I explain the situation to him, the use of the same word for a glass paned viewing port in the wall of a house and the Microsoft owned personal computer operating system.
I don't really think he is listening properly, because when I say the word 'computer' he replies very loudly with 'COMPUTER!' and starts telling me about a problem on my computer.
I ask him how he knows there is a problem with my computer and he says he is from Windows Security Team. Well, obviously if anyone is going to know about a problem on my computer it will be someone from the Windows Security Team, so I accept him at his word, although I feel the need to point out that I find it unusual that someone who works with Windows has never heard the comparison between the operating system and the glass based covering for a hole in a house.
He ignores my remark and asks me if my computer is switched on. I tell him it isn't as if I want to turn the computer on I would have to unplug the charger to my electric toothbrush and I have been using it without charge for a week now and it really has non cleaning power without the motorized action supplied by a fully charged internal battery, what with the bristles being too soft and the brush head being considerably smaller than a regular toothbrush head.
I think there must be some kind of connection issue, as it appears that the phone line has gone dead. I attempt to ring him back but the number has been withheld, which is just rude as he sounded like a pleasant, if somewhat humourless fellow.
I spend the rest of my day waiting for my toothbrush to fully charge and then I brush my teeth until the battery is fully drained. I put the toothbrush back on to charge, have a quick snack of beef burgers, sausages, bacon, hash brown, beans, Mr Brain's pork faggots, super-noodles, chips and beans, followed by a Mr Kipling's Apple Pie (x 3), a mug of hot ribena, a bag of monster munch and a banana (healthy fruit option) and then I have a bath (purple flavour bubble bath), a light supper of hot buttered toast and Haribo Starmix (1 x 200g packet, minus the eggs - saved for later) and then I go to bed and go to sleep, waking at 3am because I wanted to check if my computer had a problem. It didn't. The man must have been confused. Maybe he'd be better working for a glazing firm.