Sticky Bits

Things I learned this weekend:

- If feeding family home cooked ham with sticky bits it’s best to stand back
- Pineapple eaten whilst bouncing on a pink ball following a long walk induces labour
- A golden retriever can hear a banana being peeled at fifteen paces
- You don’t want to know what a sweep is
- Be careful what you leave lying on the kitchen counter
- Never ask G to navigate unless you like adventures in the valleys
- It is not possible to ask a question to which the answer “sticky bits” does not produce instant innuendo
- In the event sticky bits doesn’t work just ask my sister, E, how she likes her peri peri

A brief interlude…

The walk to work this morning:

I’m sooo tired.

YES…YOU DO LOOK A BIT WORSE FOR WEAR

Ow. Jeez, you’d think people would look where they’re going.

YOU’D THINK

Say, you’re a bit thin, you need some feeding up. Oh wow! I can smell freshly baked pastry; I’m really hungry . Is that…oh shit the lights have changed….*runs fuelled by profanity and adrenaline*

That was close.

YES IT WAS

Same time tomorrow?

PROBABLY

Inter-dimensional San Miguel

Yesterday, at my company, it was our summer party. We all gathered in an underground club in Soho and consumed many, many beers. This morning I feel like my brain has been replaced with an old sock. This is one of the many reasons I rarely drink.

In addition strange things have been happening all morning. In the process of putting on my shirt the buttons switched sides, the floor tilted as I put on my trousers - spilling me on my arse - and the top  BBC headline seemed to be some footballer getting hitched.

Leaving the house it got worse.

The station seems to have moved overnight, turning a fifteen minute walk into twenty-five. No one seemed to be able to see me at the station as evidenced by their attempts to walk through me and, rather more memorably, sit on my lap. A church sign, concerned with the big questions of existence, asked me “What would Jesus say to Alan Sugar?”.

Then I saw the headline on a broadsheet and I realised that my beer must have had some special properties that slipped me into an alternate reality. After all, the legend “Brown wins 42 days vote” couldn’t be true in my world. I mean the collective parliament would have had to be lobotomised and replaced with half-wit reactionary media whores.

If anyone wants me I’ll be under my desk. Tunnelling for home.

Dust Neil Says:

Commuter Capers

Top five comedy commuter capers, go on - I dare you:

5. Next time a free paper is slapped into your chest arm bar the free paper pusher to the ground and tweak him a la Mister Miyagi. Helps your defence later if you yell assault as the paper hits you.

4. Dramatically swoon to the floor, drawing maximum attention the next time someone walks into you or cuts you up.

3. Next time someone with hygiene issues sits next to you remove a can of deodrant and spray the air around you. Use of phrase “For the flies” optional.

2. As everyone rushes to the train to board dance down the platform performing the corect steve tyler moves to classic cheese rock Walk This Way.

1. Next time some one invades your personal space cough loudly, explosively and spraying as much vapour at them as you can without actually spitting on them. Then talk loudly to your companion or mobile phone about how your TB is really a lot better and you hardly bring up any blood these days. Hand wipe to space invadee’s garment is optional.

Notes to self…

1. Attempting to eat Haribo whilst driving may help keep you awake but E numbers and Metallica do not a law abiding driver make…

2. Everyone else on the motorway is out to kill you…never forget this.

3. When purchasing Chinese take away, ensure girlfriend has not just made up the name of the restaurant to confuse you before driving to the wrong establishment, this saves time and embarrassment later.

4. Do not leave chocolate on your laptop for later: laptop get hot, chocolate melt, laptop - unlike Neil - does not run on chocolate.

5. Do not stand downwind of parent’s dog after she has eaten. Not if you like breathing.

First you, then the world…

They’re coming for you, oh yes…(photo courtesy of G)

Beware of Dog

Dear Chav,

I trust this letter finds you in rather better health than I am at the moment as I sit here typing, a bag of frozen peas on my distressed knee, unable to move my neck through ten degrees.

You probably don’t recognise me, having only glimpsed my face momentarily before I demonstrated just how fast this slightly tubby Taff can move when duly incentivised. The threat of immediate divestment of various parts of my anatomy producing bursts of speed reminiscent of a constipated whippet with a bum full of dynamite.

In case you are wondering, I am of course referring to your canine friend who decided to show his friendly nature by enthusiastically introducing me to his lock jaw. I mention this only by way of mentioning that Burberry do a fabulous line of muzzles, including quick release catches for those all important gang soirées, that are surely a must own item for the Chav about town.

And I feel almost churlish pointing out that you might want to consider a treadmill for your pet. Surely it needs the exercise must given it was outrun by a weary Welshman contemplating the vagaries of corporate life, carrying the laptop that time forgot and blessed with a dodgy ACL.

One last, small, request. I quite understand the need to have a dog, particularly given your chosen profession – after all those little bags of powder don’t distribute themselves. But I can’t help thinking it would make your enterprise run more smoothly if you trained your weapondog not to attack passers by.

I hope you find this advice of use.

Regards,

The Ballistic Fat Welshman

PS - Given your dog’s eyesight you may wish to pull your trousers up a bit, they can really get in the way when running for your life.

PPS - Oh, and apparently screeching whilst running is not terribly masculine. Crazy world.

The perils of chugging

Another train story for your enjoyment.

No, not the return of the infamous butt clencher, today’s man of the moment was of a different order completely. And it wasn’t just me but the whole carriage he freaked out.

Now *coughs* I freely admit I’m no exercise junky but I am able to run for a train without too much impact on my appearance but it seems this is not the case for everyone. We’re sitting on the train in Abbey Wood getting ready to leave when a gentleman of not small proportions barrels onto the train.

Having crashed onto the train this rotund mountain of a man executes an epic flump onto his seat, he then proceeds to breath so heavily it draw wild eyed glances from people seven rows away from him.

At first you think he’s just catching his breath, but after one stop you’d be forgiven for thinking he’s milking it and after two there’s something a little odd going on. When he started shuddering rhythmically I confess I wanted to move and had it not been packed I probably would of.*

Instead I sat there with that Billy Connolly sketch involving a jogger and a rubber band going round and round my head.

Cheers Billy.

*And before anyone asks he wasn’t having a coronary, he got o…disembarked the train looking fine.

Amsterdam: Reflections

1. It is impossible to find your way round without a map and, if you do get lost, the women in the windows aren’t interested in giving you directions.

2. You need to look up in Amsterdam, if you keep looking at ground level you’re missing the architecture. Also you’re probably a perv.

3. Good news: the car drivers aren’t trying to kill you.

4. Bad news: cyclists and tram drivers are trying to kill you.

5. Even in Amsterdam the bar staff are Australian.

6. In mainland Europe all hotels must feature neon lighting in the bar. It’s the law.

7. You know how in the UK nowhere accepts Solo or Maestro, in Holland it’s the other way round.

8. Blacklights mean sleaze in any country and no one believes that look of innocent surprise so stop pretending.

9. It’s quite hard to be more inefficient than Heathrow but Schiphol likes a challenge.

10. Beer brewed by monks should be consumed with care. Alcohol and religious zeal do not mix well as anyone who’s been to a Swansea Vs. Cardiff game can attest.