Jesus Bloody Christ it rained.
Hang on though bloke, that sentence isn’t complete.
Fair enough, try this one:
Jesus Bloody Christ it rained today.
Nope, something missing. Try again.
Jesus Bloody Christ it rained on me today.
Perfect!
And The Deity of Your Choice or if you don’t have one, The Fates, Conspired to throw the entire combined contents of the Nile and Amazon rivers on to My Head this day. Yea verily.
And The Deity of Your Choice or if you don’t have one, The Fates, Conspired to piss themselves laughing at the wailing and gnashing of teeth and rending of cloth (except cloth wasn’t exactly rent? Rended? Anyway it wasn’t. It was muchly wet cloth though) enacted by this Vain and Callow Youth who Stupidly (yea verily, I do use the S word) left his large collapsible precipitation avoidance mechanism (umbrella to you) in his car.
Except He stupidly left His car nowhere near where he was, nor was it anywhere near where the hundreds of thousands of gallons of rain were pouring upon his Head (naturally enough).
And now he sits in a dry place, connected to his iPod and listening to Run DMC/Aerosmith performing Walk This Way whilst wondering if the song could be renamed, in honour of his Stupidity, Swim This Way?
The only point of consolation He can bring to this sad, sorry yet very, very wet state of affairs is that at least it is not raining in Antarctica.
But while I’m having random thoughts…
My phone went off at some very stupidly hour of the clock this morning. It was the voicemail telling me I’ve got to pick up a message.
So I did.
It was Daughter.
At stupidly stupid o’clock?
Yea verily, it was Daughter wishing me Happy New Year at five minutes past midnight on New Year’s Day.
Now that, you have to admit, is random!
Vodafone’s voicemail having a bonkers time, obv.
B.