Tuesday, March 29, 2005

99 Red Balloons 

Veteran readers of this blog will recall with great fondness how I spent last summer digging holes in the garden.
This year I have a new hobby which I’m calling “sitting in the mud pulling up weeds.” If you’d like to join along with me at home, you simply need to find a muddy space and spend a few hours digging up the wrong things. I think it could be something nice we could enjoy together.
To get the ball rolling: I forgot what Girlfriend’s forget-me-nots looked like, and paid a bitter price. Now it’s your turn.

Also, and rather excitingly, after months of searching I’ve finally discovered somewhere local where you can help yourself to free horse manure. There are loads of stables not that far from us, yet somehow horse manure is as scarce as werewolf shit. My poor little Toyota Nosebleed won’t know what’s hit it in the coming weeks.

In other non-mudsitting news, I’ve made tentative arrangements to fly someone special up to the middle of Lake Windermere and back in the summer, in a plane not much bigger than a fridge, but sssh please, it’s meant to be a surprise.

And me, Girlfriend and luscious Leanne - Bolton’s premiere former trapeze artist, tiger tamer and Nena fan, lest you forget - made an important scientific discovery. Namely, that if you drink Corona lager - no, not the pop that comes from the Corona man, you twerp - and Tequila from afternoon through to the early hours on the night the clocks go forward, you don’t get a hangover.
“Incredible!” as they say in Mexico.

This morning we found this in our inboxes from Bill Surname, Chief Executive Officer:
“Welcome back.
We should be treating this as an exciting and positive time. I know this news may be a cause of considerable concern among many of you, but this is only normal at this juncture.
Do not allow yourself to be overly preoccupied with thoughts of negativity or continue to deliver the high quality service our customers expect.”

Nobody has got a clue what he’s on about.

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