I'm Basically 2/5's of that group. I'm just one big poof and a piano! My other half hates them, which is kind of ironic. If you've never seen Friday Night with Jonathan Ross then you won't have a Motley Crew what I'm talking about. And likewise, if you've never dabbled with cockney rhyming slang, you won't know that by Motley Crew I actually mean Scooby Doo.
Some odd things have happened to me today, some of which have involved insects. The first is the very fact that I watched a common house fly (I know it was a house fly because it wasn't on a piece of fruit or a horse) washing itself. Who'd have thought it? It wasn't in a small shower (baby shower!?) or anything. It wasn't using soap or shower gel, just some sort of secretion from what looked like it's little fly anus, but still it was fascinating. It's back legs cleaned it's wings, then it's front legs washed it's face and it's middle legs washed both front and back legs. Brilliant. Makes me wish I had more legs than I have. And I have plenty of legs. At least two.
The other thing that happened, whilst I was still on my fly washing high, occurred as I was walking to my pick-up point after work. I was practically skipping down the road with my heart filled with weekend goodness when suddenly, as if God himself had sent it, an actual wasp made it's way into my actual eyeball. Not my lid, not my eye trough (trough!?) but my actua
l ball. And I know it was definitely a wasp because I was looking at it very closely. He (I was close enough to tell it was a he) looked me deep into my eye as I swung my fat head, almost in slow motion, to dislodge this 6-legged stinging bitch from my opticla tool. It felt like it went on forever, my sunglasses thrown from the top off my head where they were purched in a fashionable way and my man bag lashing around to the point where all the lids slipped off my 15-piece stationary set (birthday present from Grace... thanks) and I felt foolish. Like a foolish fool. The silver lining was that I wasn't stung. Because then I would have looked like a squid... not a good weekend look.
l ball. And I know it was definitely a wasp because I was looking at it very closely. He (I was close enough to tell it was a he) looked me deep into my eye as I swung my fat head, almost in slow motion, to dislodge this 6-legged stinging bitch from my opticla tool. It felt like it went on forever, my sunglasses thrown from the top off my head where they were purched in a fashionable way and my man bag lashing around to the point where all the lids slipped off my 15-piece stationary set (birthday present from Grace... thanks) and I felt foolish. Like a foolish fool. The silver lining was that I wasn't stung. Because then I would have looked like a squid... not a good weekend look.I have a story to tell. It involves my dog. My dog, I should explain, isn't strictly real. It's more of a soft, stuffed, inanimate dog that lives on my bed. I have many stuffed soft creatures which you may think is quite strage for a 27 year old man, but then I'm a slightly strange 27 year old man so that should pretty much cancel it out. To explain why I suppose, as an artist (!), I like character and shape, personality through feature and so on. People like cartoons and greetings cards with cartoons on them and so on. I like fluffy animals that are fun to look at. I have cows, cats, monkeys, crocodiles, a slug, a sloth, a sabre toothed tiger, a gollywog, some lions and a couple of hugs to name but a few. But the dog that lives on my bed gets special treatment because he was a Valentine's gift and he's mega cute. His name is AR!
AR has lived on my bed for about two and a half years and has slept and woken up on the bed for that length of time. He's always there when you need him! But a few days ago he'd disappeared. I obviously wondered where he'd gone but didn't stress too much. Then, a day or so later, he reappeared on my pillow. After further questioning from my partner, it turns out that he'd gone with the bed sheets, into the washing machine, then the dryer and back onto the bed, clean as a whistle, without being noticed! Clever dog! He looked very pleased with himself! And rightly so.
(That's AR on my knee!)
Well, I'd better go. Just gotta say happy 3rd birthday to Riley Roo, my little friend, and mention something amusing he said tonight when we went to give him his present (a hillarious cat glove puppet that meows when you open his mouth). As his mum Meg picked him up to try and get him to sing with her, he casually announed, "Erm, I can't see the cake!"
Fantastic.
Mother's party time tomorrow. All will be well no doubt. Got the Saturday morning breakfast show to get through first! Bit of theory driving test revision, then bed!
Peace and love for the weekend,
M xxx
No comments:
Post a Comment