Dear Lauren…
‘Where do your ideas come from?’
Jesus.
‘How many roads must a man walk down before you can call him a man?’
Now that question isn’t as simple as it may seem. There are far too many variables to give a single, solid answer. How long is each road? Is it a dirt road? What are the weather conditions? How many legs does the man have? Is he carrying something? What is the weight of the item or items he is carrying? What time of year is it? Is he wearing appropriate walking shoes? What’s his middle name?
‘What’s the deal with you and Mr Potato Head?’
He amuses me, alright? WHY IS THAT SO HARD FOR PEOPLE TO UNDERSTAND? That, and I like his sexy, potato shaped torso and his dark, mysterious eyes.
‘Is that one person from Guatemala still reading your blog?’
Not since the first time I mentioned them, no. Sorry Guatemalan person. If you come back, I promise to never mention you again.
‘Will we be seeing more of the overweight stripper Gassy Struts?’
I’m sure she’ll take it all off if you throw enough money at her. Television has lead me to believe this is what strippers do.
‘Where do you think your unhealthy obsession with bacon came from?’
As a child, did you ever see the movie Charlotte’s Web? That cartoon pig sure looked delicious.
‘Isn’t it your birthday soon?’
Yes. And now that you know, you have no excuse for not getting me a present. I enjoy cash, candy, shiny things and monkeys wearing people clothes (as in ‘miniature versions of clothes people would wear,’ not ‘clothes made out of people’).
‘When is your novel about the angel and the vampire who fall in love at wizard school coming out?’
When I have enough money to deal with the lawsuits. And when I’ve written it. Which I never will. Because it’ll take too long and Home and Away is on at 7:00.
‘Is ‘ejaculate’ really an alternate word for ‘cry’?’
YES! I’ve seen it in other books now! And it’s hilarious every time! eg. ‘He tried to stop her, but she ignored his ejaculations.’ Ahaha. Gold.
‘I’m a Nigerian Prince. Can I have your bank details?’
Yes.
‘Did you learn anything interesting today?’
I learned that people who are short on cash don’t appreciate it when you tell them they should sell one of their kidneys on the black market. ‘Prostitution’ is also not a valid suggestion, apparently.
‘Why are you still doing this?’
Why are you still reading it?
‘Have you ever considered adding more challenging books to your book club?’
You didn’t find The Very Hungry Caterpillar challenging? Expect a new addition to the book club just as soon as I uncover the mystery of Wally’s whereabouts.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Ode to bacon
This is a poem for the tastiest of meats,
one of the world’s most wonderful feats,
whose popularity I learned of last week,
when I blogged about it like a hungry freak.
You’re cut from a pig, then carefully treated.
With a beaming smile you are ecstatically greeted.
Your addictive flavour should be some kind of sin.
When I cook you in a frying pan, your oil spurts out and burns my skin.
I see you sitting there on my plate,
knowing that you’ll taste unbelievably great,
but you’re still too hot, I’ll have to wait.
More than once I’ve eaten you past your ‘use by’ date.
Your fat clogs my arteries, and yes, I know,
that because of you, to an early grave I shall go.
I like you when you’re soft, I like you when you’re crispy.
When you’re gone from my plate my eyes get all misty.
My bloated belly is a small price to pay,
for the constant burping that reminds me of you all day.
As the years go by, my love for you never weans.
Sometimes I eat so much that I suffer chest pains.
And so I have composed this poem,
So when asked how I feel, I can clearly show ‘em.
To eat you right now is one of my greatest wishes,
Because, old friend, you are spectacularly delicious.
Mmm. Bacon.
one of the world’s most wonderful feats,
whose popularity I learned of last week,
when I blogged about it like a hungry freak.
You’re cut from a pig, then carefully treated.
With a beaming smile you are ecstatically greeted.
Your addictive flavour should be some kind of sin.
When I cook you in a frying pan, your oil spurts out and burns my skin.
I see you sitting there on my plate,
knowing that you’ll taste unbelievably great,
but you’re still too hot, I’ll have to wait.
More than once I’ve eaten you past your ‘use by’ date.
Your fat clogs my arteries, and yes, I know,
that because of you, to an early grave I shall go.
I like you when you’re soft, I like you when you’re crispy.
When you’re gone from my plate my eyes get all misty.
My bloated belly is a small price to pay,
for the constant burping that reminds me of you all day.
As the years go by, my love for you never weans.
Sometimes I eat so much that I suffer chest pains.
And so I have composed this poem,
So when asked how I feel, I can clearly show ‘em.
To eat you right now is one of my greatest wishes,
Because, old friend, you are spectacularly delicious.
Mmm. Bacon.
Friday, June 10, 2011
Sleep deprivation – A study into the effects of
Along with putting your pyjamas on at 4:30pm because you’ve lost the will to go on, walking into large items and not realising until you notice the bruise and/or blood, and extending the ‘five second rule’ to the ‘however many seconds it takes me to pick it up because I’ve been getting up for work at 4am and I can’t move that fast this week’ rule, these are some of the other plights of the sleep deprived (and by that I mean me):
Hearing loss
Well rested person: ‘I like Jack and his wife.’
Sleep deprived person: ‘What? Japanese wife?’
Odd trains of thought
Well rested person: ‘The flaps on the coffee cart are held up by gassy struts.’
Sleep deprived person: ‘“Gassy Struts” sounds like an overweight stripper.’
Falling asleep while standing up
At work
At work for a second time
On public transport
Hate
‘Bloody kids.’
‘Bloody wind.’
‘Bloody kids with wind.’
Strange relationships with food
-Eating every item of food in the house not because you’re hungry, but because it’s there and if you’re chewing you won’t fall asleep.
-Eating because you can’t remember whether or not you’ve already eaten.
-Cursing the wind again while waiting for the train because it’s blowing across the smell of deliciousness from the bakery a few streets over and you would genuinely consider punching a stranger in the face for a donut.
-Falling in love with a bag of chips and threatening violence against people you’ve known and loved your entire life when they ask if they can have one.
-Being sickeningly nice to a co-worker all day because they bought you a bacon and egg sandwich and you’ve now reached the conclusion that nothing else matters in life but the magical taste of bacon.
Hearing loss
Well rested person: ‘I like Jack and his wife.’
Sleep deprived person: ‘What? Japanese wife?’
Odd trains of thought
Well rested person: ‘The flaps on the coffee cart are held up by gassy struts.’
Sleep deprived person: ‘“Gassy Struts” sounds like an overweight stripper.’
Falling asleep while standing up
At work
At work for a second time
On public transport
Hate
‘Bloody kids.’
‘Bloody wind.’
‘Bloody kids with wind.’
Strange relationships with food
-Eating every item of food in the house not because you’re hungry, but because it’s there and if you’re chewing you won’t fall asleep.
-Eating because you can’t remember whether or not you’ve already eaten.
-Cursing the wind again while waiting for the train because it’s blowing across the smell of deliciousness from the bakery a few streets over and you would genuinely consider punching a stranger in the face for a donut.
-Falling in love with a bag of chips and threatening violence against people you’ve known and loved your entire life when they ask if they can have one.
-Being sickeningly nice to a co-worker all day because they bought you a bacon and egg sandwich and you’ve now reached the conclusion that nothing else matters in life but the magical taste of bacon.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Mr Potato Head's journey through time and space
It all began when Mr Potato Head made the questionable decision to start a band with Hipster-Tickle-Me-Elmo. 
Not surprisingly, this partnership fell apart thanks to their different musical influences.
Now stuck for a way to spend his afternoon, Mr Potato Head did what any logical thinker would have done: he stole the Tardis that sits next to my telly.
Then he learned that while it's all well and good for something to be bigger on the inside, you need to be able to fit through the door first.
So that logical thinking of his came in handy once more.
First he met the locals.
Then he fled from the locals.
And took part in some (not so)petty theft. 
Then Hipster-Tickle-Me-Elmo showed up in his time travelling calico bag, because 'Tardises and Deloreans have, like, totally been done before, and this is, like, way more environmentally friendly and that. You should totally grow a moustache.'
And sadly, Mr Potato Head gave into peer pressure.
He also put his hand in a somewhat suspect area that the photographer didn't take any notice of until it was too late.
Not surprisingly, this partnership fell apart thanks to their different musical influences.Now stuck for a way to spend his afternoon, Mr Potato Head did what any logical thinker would have done: he stole the Tardis that sits next to my telly.Then he learned that while it's all well and good for something to be bigger on the inside, you need to be able to fit through the door first.So that logical thinking of his came in handy once more.First he met the locals.Then he fled from the locals.And took part in some (not so)petty theft. Then Hipster-Tickle-Me-Elmo showed up in his time travelling calico bag, because 'Tardises and Deloreans have, like, totally been done before, and this is, like, way more environmentally friendly and that. You should totally grow a moustache.'And sadly, Mr Potato Head gave into peer pressure.He also put his hand in a somewhat suspect area that the photographer didn't take any notice of until it was too late.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
