|Had a fantastic day today!
Here’s a poem to celebrate it.
I eat Monkeys
I eat them for my breakfast
I eat monkeys
You can keep your Gibbons and Shrews
I eat Monkeys
Martin Wolfenden Age 33 1/2
Today we had a pub crawl around Sowerby Bridge.
Am very pissed.
Ah what a nice day.
After the big food of the last few days it’s so nice to just sit down with a turkey and piccalli toasty while watching Emma on ITV3. Mark Strong is decidedly good as Mr Knightley, such a pity he didn’t get the Bond part. He looks like my Uncle though. Then again he probably didn’t want it.
Argh the juices burned my chin!
It’s Boxing day and I’m still full of the yummy food I had yesterday. Have escaped without a hangover too, no doubt because I drank all day yesterday and my body thinks it’s normal. Got some top pressies too including a blow up Prime Minister, you inflate it using a hair dryer.
Well am all set to do the same thing today but now we move our story to Rastrick and my fathers house.
See you later!
Well it’s nearly here, I can hardly wait I’m munching mince pies and singing. Yes it’s nearly payday. I love payday, they give me money and I can eat, huzzah! So lets all sit round and sing to the 30th December, Hurray! for paaaaaay daaaaaay…
Anyway for those of you looking forward to something else, here’s a picture of festive cheer!
Argggggghhh! The time thieves stole my blogging time.
Curse their small purple buttocks.
I was wandering lonely as a serial killer cloud about the web and happened upon this thought provoking site. Click here
It changed me.
Today I discovered the meaning of confusion when I kicked back too hard in my swivel chair and found myself in somebody else’s office. My life is an exciting whirl of discovery
Yay! A new blog all for me.
Well it’s sunday and earlier on, just after I got up in fact, I enacted the ritual that has been performed by me since the dawn of today. I curled up on the sofa with a huge pot of Earl Grey tea and a box of biccies waiting for Rumpole of the Bailey to come onto my television. As I sat there thinking myself the happiest man in the world I looked down, only to see a testicle peeking round the hem of my dressing gown. For some reason that spoiled the whole moment and I went to have a bath and get dressed, leaving my tea to go cold with a feeling that the whole world was futile. Strange things testicles the site of them can make the happiest man feel miserable.
Ho hum! Perhaps they’ll invent an antidote one day.