Thursday 25 February 2010

Abducted

"So, where have you been these last few days?"

"Abducted by aliens."

"You're kidding?"

"Nope, Check it out. Look at the fur on my left side. All shaved off. See the scar?"

"No shit, Sherlock! How did that happen?"

"Sleeping away, eyes shut, bright light, then one of those hairless pink aliens pushed me in a cage. Took me off in their spaceship to a probing centre. More poking by pink aliens, then I smelled something a bit odd, next thing I know I got the scar."

"Are you feeling ok?"

"Bit sore around the scar. And the back of my neck. I think they put a tracking device in me. Look, try feeling the back of my neck with a paw. There, like a small metal rod, just below the skin."

"I know where there is a half-eaten box of KFC"

"Now you're talking. Lead on. This fence was getting a bit tough on my paws anyhow. Do you know where there's an empty takeaway curry tin?"

"What do you want with one of those?"

"Gonna mould it over my head to keep the alien thoughts out."

"Mulder, you're a strange one, no mistake. Still up for the KFC?"

Wednesday 24 February 2010

Can you be too healthy?

I got fed up being a couch potato and decided to get in shape with the new banana diet I found on the internet.

Well, after a week, I think the results are beginning to tell:


Monday 15 February 2010

The Right Moment

"Would sirs like poppadoms and the pickles?"

I was startled. Taken aback. Somewhat surprised. I was sitting in our favourite booth at the Euthanasia Curry House. Roth was sitting opposite me. This in itself is not unusual, but I had no memory of having got there, or prior to that, making the original arrangements or even, somewhere in the middle, walking through the door. That is unusual.

Roth looked up. He was fiddling with something with copious quantities of red and black wires. It looked complicated and I assumed it was part of his atomic bomb dismantling refresher course. People in his line of work are tested on this sort of thing all the time. Failure, or drinking the wrong cocktail whilst defusing is viewed most seriously. Roth stopped periodically to sip a vesper.

My mind spun. The last thing I remembered for sure was laying in bed and turning my pillow over to the cold side and snuggling back into it. Was the Euthanasia Curry House on the cold side of my pillow? I understand it's possible to find strange things at the back of a wardrobe, but a curry house on the cold side of the pillow was exceptional. Could I get a pillow with a pizzeria on the cold side?

"I've taken off the black wire and it's not buzzing anymore," said Roth.

"Are you asking?" I asked.

"No, no, I'm fairly sure I'm right. Anyhow we'll find out in 30 seconds time. On the down side we won't get the poppadoms or pickles. On the up side nor will we get the bill."

"Do you know why I am dressed in my pyjamas?"

"I hadn't noticed, but that does seem to be the case. Have you spoken with your tailor?" he paused, "Anyway, I'd sort out what you're ordering - I've been here a while."

"Good point." I looked down at the menu and noticed that along with a vast array of starters and main courses there appeared some more atypical items.

The poppadoms and pickles arrived and within a couple of minutes and so did our regular waiter. "Would sirs like to order?"

"Oh yes please! Can I have a no. 15 sheek kebab, no. 24 keema nan, no. 32 lamb rogan and no. 40 mushroom rice? Oh, and no. 57 a black t-shirt that has seen better days, no. 60 a black leather coat with slight tear near the right sleeve, no. 75 a pair of black trousers with a hole in the left pocket and no. 80a some black underpants. Thank you."

"Certainly sir. An excellent choice," he turned slightly, "Mr Roth?"

Indigo ordered. The waiter disappeared briefly and apologetically. He came back with a second pad and a further supply of pencils. "Sir has made a good choice. Extensive. But good."

"Excuse me, how did I get here?" This little issue was beginning to bother me. The thought of a fantastic curry and the relief that more than 30 seconds had passed and I wasn't sailing past the pearly gates followed by a billowing mushroom cloud had done little to dampen my disquiet.

"We try to be there whenever our customers need us. I shall check. Sirs clothing order will be hanging over the heated towel rail in the men's rest room in just a few moments." He looked disapprovingly at the egg yolk stain decorating the front of my pyjama top.

I slipped away to the rest room to get changed. My clothes were hanging over the towel rail just as the waiter had described. When I returned there were two military types looming over the seated Roth. One was poking around in the complicating wiring. The other dipped his finger in Roth's drink and then licked it. The first one nodded his approval. The second spoke, "Not enough Kina Lillet in this Roth." He winced and coughed.

"That's the lime pickle, P", Roth remarked dryly. "Try this," he pushed the vesper forward. P downed the remainder of the glass in one grateful gulp. He too then nodded his approval. Both men seemed to melt into the general hubbub of the Euthanasia.

Roth turned his glass over in his hand, "He's drunk the bloody lot!"

Our orders arrived and the table was covered in things that steamed, bubbled, sizzled and gave up amazing aromas. We finished the lot. We both broke our personal bests, and some of the crockery.

When we had finished and silence had descended, the waiter came back and spoke to me. "You understand a little physics don't you?"

"Yes," I said, "A little."

"Do you understand the principle of The Right Moment?"

"Yes. There are things that must happen at certain points in the flow of time," I answered with more confidence than I felt about the subject.

"The Euthanasia is tethered close to the Right Moment for a Curry."

Roth, who had been quiet up until this point cut in, "Is that why it isn't on any maps?"

"Yes, quite. Although if you get the right sort of map..." his voice trailed off, as though he were about to impart some information we shouldn't be given.

I caught on. I suspect the fumes from Roth's late drink were slowing my mind. "So that explains why I am here, now?"

"No." said the Waiter.

"Oh. So why are you telling me this?"

"To be honest, I had nothing much to do between orders. I have a degree in temporal physics and feel the urge to show off occasionally."

"I hope your urge is satisfied," I lied, "I was laying in bed. I had just turned my pillow over to the cold side and suddenly I'm ordering a curry!"

"Did sir not enjoy his food?"

"No, it was very good indeed. Compliments to the chef. YOU'RE CHANGING THE SUBJECT!"

"OK. My best guess is you thought of this place and the principle of the Right Moment brought you here."

The Euthanasia swirled around me and vanished. I felt the cool of the duvet and sheets against my skin. Then I remembered, whilst I was turning the pillow over, I reached for my Ultra Heavy Duty Indigestion tablets. I would be surprised if the Euthanasia hadn't slipped into my mind at that point.

Tuesday 2 February 2010

Kerr-pow

Slobbering-under-the-Bed is not entirely the law abiding place full of happy people you may have surmised from my previous chronicles. There is a dark underbelly. We have karaoke, we have insurance brokers, we have crime.

I was to experience this naughtiness first hand one evening. I had just left the Euthanasia Curry House. Roth had rushed off as he needed to fill in a 20 foot deep hole in the garden. Apparently it was in the middle of the path to the front door and people kept falling in it. Anyway, I took a shortcut down an unlit alley. It was there I bumped into two ne'er-do-wells. Footpads. Muggers. Thieves. Well, two of them.

One was quite short and scrawny, the other was larger, fatter and had a head that looked like a potato. The short scrawny one pulled a knife. "Give me your cash," he snarled.

I blustered. My yellow streak must have been clearly visible. Hesitantly, whilst looking at the knife, I started, "Look, I don't have any money I just spent it, but I can go and get some." I was hoping to show them a clean pair of heals.

Short and scrawny and potato head looked at one another, and before they could say another word, there was a crash and a voice could be heard from the other end of the alley. It said, "Take your hands off this fine, upstanding citizen, and..." at this point the owner of the voice fell over, "...return the world to the upright position you evil fiends."

A second person appeared at the far end of the alley, staggered and fell over the first. "Bugger," he muttered.

I was quite shocked. First little and large with a knife and now I get to meet Slobbering's very own superheroes. Lying not five yards from me were the prostrate forms of Off-his-head-man and his ever faithful sidekick Blotto-boy. Forgetting the knife, it's owner and his spud-head friend I rummaged in my pocket for my autograph book. This would be such an honour.

My would-be rescuers pulled themselves to their feet and stumbled over to little and large. Off-his-head-man snatched something from his utility belt and confronted short and scrawny with it, brandishing it unsteadily in front of him.

"That's a frozen chicken!" short and scrawny exclaimed, "and your underpants are on backwards!"

"Everyone's a bloody critic," muttered Off-his-head-man and poked short and scrawny hard in the eye with the pointy end of the chicken. The knife clattered to the floor.

Blotto-boy lay his hand on the potato headed mugger's shoulder. He briefly looked like he was holding himself up. He spoke quietly, "I love you. I've written a poem," he slurred.

Short and scrawny looked at potato head with watering eyes, "Sod this. I'm off!" With that they both scarpered out of the alley. I never saw them again. I didn't want to.

Off-his-head-man picked up the knife, gave it to me with the chicken and explained I needed to defrost it completely before cooking. He then linked arms with Blotto-boy and they staggered out of the alley singing:


A long time ago, way back in history
When all there was to drink was nothing but cups of tea
Along came a man by the name of Charlie Mops
And he invented a wonderful drink and he made it out of hops

   (Chorus)
   oh he ought to be an admiral, a sultan, or a king
   And to his praises we shall always sing
   Look what he has done for us, he's filled us up with cheer
   god bless Charlie Mops,
   The man who invented beer

The Jury's Bar, the Clancy's Pub, the Hole in the Wall as well
One thing you can be sure of, it's Charlie's beer they sell
So come on all me lucky lads at eleven O'clock ye stop
For five short seconds, remember Charlie Mops
One, two, three, four, five

   Chorus

A barrel of malt, A bushel of hops, you stir it around with a stick,
The kind of lubrication to make your engine tick.
Forty pints of wallop a day will keep away the quacks.
It's only eight pence ha'penny and one and six in tax
One, two, three, four, five

   Chorus

The lord bless Charlie Mops!

[link on the last 'Charlie Mops' to find out where this song comes from, it isn't mine]

Monday 1 February 2010

More Than You Want To Know

The awesome writer who is Indigo Roth has inflicted upon bestowed and honoured me with a Best Follower Award:


This award comes with a scary number of questions. Fortunately it doesn't come with Anne Robinson. That would be just cruel and unusual.

1. What is your current obsession?
Food. 43 years I've been obsessed by what I poke in the hole in the front of my face.

2. What are you wearing today?
Amongst other things, two shoes of the same type and colour. This is exceptional.

3. What’s for dinner?
Now, I think it will be something healthy like jacket potato and salad. By this afternoon it'll be takeaway pizza or chips. By the time I get home it'll be a takeaway curry.

4. What’s the last thing you bought?
A neoprene ankle support.

5. What are you listening to right now?
The Wishing Tree - Nightwater

6. What do you think about the person who tagged you?
Deeply talented, great writer and great friend. Harmful to pizzakind everywhere.

7. If you could have a house totally paid for, fully furnished anywhere in the world, where would you like it to be?
Right where I am would be nice. Fluffy daughter would miss her school mates if we moved.

BANK

8. What are your must-have pieces for summer?
I'd like an iPad please. And one of those docking thingies for an iPad. And an iPad keyboard.

9. If you could go anywhere in the world for the next hour, where would you go?
Home.

10. Which language do you want to learn?
English. Quite frankly my grammer sucks. My spelling sucks too, but the computers hide that.

11. What’s your favourite quote?
"It is a miracle that curiosity survives formal education" - Albert Einstein.

12. Who do you want to meet right now?
Granny Smith. She makes bloody marvellous apples.

13. What is your favourite colour?
Black.

14. Give us 3 styling tips that work for you.
Always stand under a broken light. Wear black. Leave before anyone looks.

BANK

15. What is your dream job?
Pig pilot.

16. What’s your favorite magazine?
"Megalomaniacs Weekly". Ernst Stavro Blofeld centerfold this week.

17. If you had $100 now, what would you spend it on?
Oooh. Current exchange rate makes that £62.79. That's a good pizza. Where's Roth?

18. What do you consider a fashion faux pas?
Pizza without chilli.

19. Who according to you is the most over-rated style icon?
Mary Poppins. Umbrellas are so 1960s.

20. What kind of haircut do you prefer?
Short. Very.

21. What are you going to do after this?
Talk to myself for a while. I shall clamp a phone to my ear so no one realises, but I shall talk to myself.

22. What are your favourite movies?
Sherlock Homes, Dark Knight recently, then The Crow.

23. What inspires you?
Apathy.

BANK

24. What do your friends call you most commonly?
Mandy, but only at weekends. The rest of the time it's Bishop Snodgrass.

25. Would you prefer coffee or tea?
Coffee until I start twitching. Then tea until I start peeing.

26. What do you do when you are feeling low or terribly depressed?
Eat. I also eat when I'm happy.

27. What makes you go wild?
Lycanthropy.

28. Which other blogs do you love visiting?
Have a look at the right hand column on my blog. They're all there. All have the wit, charm and writing skills I aspire to.

29. Favorite Dessert/Sweet?
Profiteroles

30. How many tabs are turned on in your browser right now?
17 in Chrome, 5 in IE, 3 in Firefox and 2 in Safari.

31. Favorite Season?
Winter, Spring, Summer or Fall.....

32. If I come to your house now, what would you cook for me?
I'd be out.

33. What is the right way to avoid people who purposefully hurt you?
Never visit their graves.

34. What are you afraid of the most?
The big bad wolf. Small bad wolves don't bother me. Big nice wolves are ok too. The big bad ones give me the willies.

BANK

35. When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
Euthanasia. And not the curry house.

36. What brings a smile on your face instantly?
Fluoxetine.

37. A word that you say a lot?
F*ck. I know I shouldn't but I do. A lot.

38. What would you do if you were made President for one day?
Assassinate myself. That'd be one for the history books.

39. What is that one thing that keeps you going?
See 36.

40. What's word drives you crazy when you hear it?
Two: Binge drinking. For goodness sake, who didn't drink too much when they were young?

41. What's your least favourite character trait?
Depression. It really gets me down. Oh. That's the point isn't it? Bugger.

I'll pass this onto only a few followers that Indigo didn't get first! Click the names to visit their blog.
  • Robbie. A regular commenter, a great blogger and a JC lookalike. And I don't mean John Cleese.
  • QuirkyLoon. Comments on much of what I have written and writes stuff that makes me laugh.
Oh, yes, I'm supposed to add a question of my own. Here it is:

42. What do you get if you multiply six by nine?

Thank you Indigo. No really.

                                                                                                 

Kato over at Pandorah's Box has been kind enough to send me the Kick Ass Bloggers award. Thank you very much indeed. It looks a lot like this below:


Apparently I have to give this award to eight kick ass bloggers. Eight is a big number and I'm functionally innumerate. So here we go:
Thank you Kato.