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Aarrrrghhhhh!

I’m sitting on the couch pondering the injustices that life has dealt me today.

Injustice the first; I have just realised that my wife belches better than I do.

I mean, how pathetic am I to be bettered in the belching department by one as young and beautiful as she?

After the fantastic meal she cooked me this evening we sat on the couch and watched Studio 69 60 on Sunset Strip while we finished the remains of yesterday evening’s bottle of champagne – mixed with lemonade.

So I should be well stoked up with nature’s little bubbles, yeah?

Nope.

Loser.

And that brings me to…

Injustice the second; I stupidly left behind a work of blogging art that I squandered laboured over in my lunch break today.

My own fault really.

I was a little hyper, went upstairs for a large latté and my afternoon tin of Red Bull, came back down and just plowed in to it.

Brilliant.

Or so I thought at the time.

But right now I’m not so sure that an observation on flushing the toilet after urinating has quite the literary appeal – or wit – it had earlier today.

Injustice the third; actually this isn’t an injustice, more a case of stupidity brought on by…

Oh I don’t know…

Yes I do!

Brought on by a case of genetics!

Yep indeedy!

This thing was an active of stupidity that I can quite clearly blame on my… (pauses whilst mentally searching the family tree for a suitable victim)…

Cousin Llewellyn.

Yeah, this one’s because of my cousin Llewellyn because if it hadn’t’ve been for him I (probably) wouldn’t have got in to that indelicate situation at the convent in Abergavenny that involved me, a first-floor window, a large bottle of Quink (black, I seem to remember, half a pint) and Sister Mary Joseph walking underneath.

So injustice the third/stupidity the first; I paid a lump of money in to somebody else’s account.

Well der, of course it was supposed to go in to somebody else’s account.

Just not the one where I ended up sending it.

That bloody Llewellyn.

All his fault.

So in the absence of a slightly dubious piece that I worked on whilst chomping on my sandwich, here’s a blog brought to you through the power of mime…

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Thank you.

B.

p.s.
Why is it now OK not to flush the toilet after one has had a pee when if I had failed to flush as a child I’d have been battered to hell and back?  Is this really the power of environmental change or does someone’s deity have a really malicious sense of humour – possibly involving Sister Mary Joseph, a first floor window and a half-pint bottle of Quink? Black?

6 thoughts on “Aarrrrghhhhh!”

  2. One should always have a cousin Llewellyn to blame. It gives this flavour of, you know, authenticity to the whole business.

    I shall make note of using cousin Llewellyn in the next lab meeting, should the need of an excuse occur.

    And I shall also makes note of checking how to pronounce Llewellyn, so as to better the effect of said excuse.

    Or maybe I should just focus on not turning totally crazy?

  3. Ginny, lol, just the one. I think I was hyper because I’d had a good meeting; positives affect me erm, positively. 🙂

    Chloé, I have much to blame Llewellyn for (at least in my head) – including being an attributing factor (but not the cause, I’m not totally unreasonable) in an accident when I got hit by a car when I was about ten. I can’t do Welsh phonetically I’m afraid – I just know how to do it (but The Lovely S might be able to break the pron of Llewellyn down) but in a rough nutshell it’s Clew-eclew-in. Crazyness I can’t help you with other than advise you to throw fewer people threw windows perhaps? 🙂

    Ginny, are you Ginny, Gin, Jen or Genevieve and if the latter is it (phon) Jen-eh-veeve or Jen-eh-vee/ayve?

  5. My “proper” name is Genevieve, said “Jen-a-veev”, but my nickname is Ginny (which is said Gin-ee if you didn’t know…)

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