Things I should do tonight:
1) Clean the apartment. Bombs would leave less destruction. I'm normally fairly clean and tidy about the hovel but lately, well, let's just say the place has put on some weight.
2) Go back to the piece of fiction I started a couple of months back, in Dingle. It's about a man who goes to furthest Kerry to get started on his meisterwerk, only to get distracted by anything or anyone who might lead him to distraction. It's a real thinkpiece. You'd all lap that shit up.
3) Write another letter to 2005.
4) Mow the lawn. No sign of the landlord. I hope he's ok. He is a nice man.
5) Buy some milk, safe in the knowledge that King Cunt only works the mornings in Spar.
6) Finally use that hot curry powder on something that sizzles.
7) Plot a trip to Heidelberg.
8) Read the 'Engaging Pedagogy' notes that have been on my floor since last August.
9) Dress up as myself circa 1997, fashioning the hair I have lost out of twigs.
10) Plot the demise of 5X.
11) Knock on the neighbour's door and ask them to stop drilling, even though they haven't made a sound since Tuesday morning.
12) Bake. Anything. Because I never have.
13) Steal apples from the neighbouring tree. In order to bake. Anything. Because I never have.
Things I will do tonight:
1) Fewer than six of the above.
2) Scratch balls.
3) Engage burgeoning headcold.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
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20 comments:
That's no headcold. You've probably been rubbing yourself off Mexicans again.
Twenty - Arriba! If my system fails me, I decree to you my entire collection of Bruce Greenwood DVDs.
You will post a photo for us if you manage number 9, won't you?
''6) Finally use that hot curry powder on something that sizzles.''
Kinky...
Susan - I need to find that flattering red t-shirt first.
Meadow - Time to get inventive.
Don't you always secretly hope the landlord might just dissappear forever and you'll get to keep the place?
I baked banana bread recently. Wasn't a massive success if truth be told. Not as fuckin easy as it seems I tell ya.
But if you do bake, make sure to wash your hands after scratching your balls ya filthy bastard!
go around and bake your neighbours, then drill a hole in a carton of milk and scratch a hole in your Heidelberg.
Niamh B - Not so secretly. Recession.
NaRocRoc - Banana bread. I couldn't possibly. Bananas cause me to die. And I've got some strong soap.
Deletist of comment - I disagree, whatever it was.
Red - Sounds like a lot of effort, but ok then.
You gonna make some strong soap bread so instead?!?
yeah it does a bit I suppose, perhaps the ball scratching will suffice.
NaRocRoc - There's bound to be some sort of innuendo I can make right here, but fucked if I can see it.
Red - I think it's the laziest thing a man can do. I'm picturing white trailer trash and a baseball cap. Not sexually, mind.
Amid all these ambitions my mind keeps asking, "What the hell would he bake? And would we want the recipe?" ;)
And you know, if you use that white trash metaphor, you have to include thoughts of your sister that others wouldn't approve of...especially your sister.
Bake an idea.
Oh, you've been Snailed.
http://meadowchance.blogspot.com/2009/04/snailed-not-quite-as-good-as-desked.html
If you find you haven't the energy to carry out the proposed scratching of the balls Radge, you could always settle for second best, and merely flop the penis from the left hand side to the right hand side of your boxer shorts.
Granted, it's a poor man's ball scratching, but costs a fraction of the calories.
Hope - I need a cookbook. And euch.
Holemaster - Is this a euphemism? Probably not.
Meadow - I see that. This is my first ever snailing.
Flann - The dick flick. Yep. It's been done.
Oh, I need no help. Don't you worry.
5X - This is very, very true. You'll find your own destruction.
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