cheese on toast rocks.

ok, so i haven’t blogged for ages now. who cares if the last time you read a post that i wrote you were just wetting your diapers and now… well, you’re still wetting your incontinence pants. pardon me if i offend you, but the dust and spiders and spiderwebs and moths and random sheep from my rather long-disused keyboard are going up my rather large nose, causing me to be rather irritable in rather a short time. in short, i’ve got a nose as red and raw as a slab of, well, red and raw meat.

to be fair, i HAVE thought about blogging every now and then, to tell everyone what a great time i’ve been having doing fun productive things like trying to play Queen’s bohemian rhapsody on an elastic band and stabbing my eyes with a plastic fork until either a) the plastic fork breaks, b) my eyeballs burst, or c) the plastic fork melts out of sheer petulance and thus blinds me. i could also tell you how rubbing a raw mosquito bite only makes the same area look reeeeeeeaally sexy to other nonchalant passing mosquitoes. i could add in for good measure how i found out that curling my fingers in this particular direction causes my cats to hiss, spit, claw and generally do a pretty uncanny rendition of michael jackson’s moonwalk. but, of course, fortunately for you, i won’t.

i’ve been turning the cogs in my head lately. i’ve been thinking over the polite how,s why’s where’s, who’s and all those necessary crap to prove one is alive. you know that feeling you get as a kid when you run (or in my case waddle) over fields in the sun? i’ve been going through a lot of those random childhood memories. after a while, they started to irritate me, so i decided to exorcise them nasty demons by actually reliving that happy time.

case study one: the zoo.
have you been to the zoo lately? what can you remember about it? i went there, and experienced the quiet joy of wrinkling up my nose at the bovine smell of a ton of shit being gracefully plopped down from the rather crusty ass of a pachyderm. the air was full of the sounds of roars, bellows, squawks and the random grunts of little midgets busy trying to dig themselves out and vowing never to stand again behind an elephant with diarhorrea. besides that lasting impression of rectumus massivus and a surprisingly peevish looking pink hippo, i can’t really recall the rest of the experience as there wasn’t anything much to remember. after an hour of quietly mooning the chimps and throwing peanuts at the primates, causing them helluva lot of irritation, i sauntered off feeling slightly unsatified and feeling the strong urge to wear a feather boa and do the macarena in front of the zoo guards while singing “who let the dogs out” in the musical key of C major. i settled for a quiet humming as i went off to the car.

case study two: the bird park.
bravely facing my natural phobia of a hairful of bird excrement, i went to the birdpark, only to discover one thing: the only thing worse than divebombing bird shit is divebombing BIRD. what’s up with our feathered friends? as i looked around and watched the tourists waddling about gratuitiously in their bright yellow and green and orange shorts and their waistbands up around their armpits i began to sympathise with the birds. indeed, it was all i could do to keep myself from launching off a bench with a beautifully executed flying kick to that fat red face. the only birds that were tame just so happened to be the ones which were in the cages and basically couldn’t give a shit (literally) about the porky faces outside looking in at them. oh, and the ostriches too. the ostrich, admittedly looking like a cross between a giant turkey, drew carey and a large surprised baboon is an interesting creature. did you know that they talk to each other in guttural grunts? you didn’t? well now you know. so there. feeling enlightened?
case study three: the national museum.
i went in to the national museum at 3.00 pm,
i came out of the national museum at 3.30 pm.

case study four: the planetarium.
i was going through a major phase of naive stupidity as i honestly thought that the main purpose of a planetarium is to generate public interest in space and technology. of course, all you clever people know that the planetarium was built solely to give your brain a reason to commit harakiri out of sheer desperate boredom. i learned nothing at all there, except that if you knock an annoying kid’s fat forehead from the right, he would turn in that direction thus giving you the chance to smack him up from the left nicely. there is this rather fun room in there though, with the droll name of “the anti-gravitation room” where you can feel the effects of gravity gone wrong. it’s just a room tilted a mere 30 - 40 degrees on a weird angle, but the effect is nauseatingly fun. all of us knows what fun it is watching suitably fat annoying bratty kid try to clamber up the steep floor, failing and whacking his forehead again against the wall as he stoops to grab that fried drumstick that slipped through his fingers, and of course, you can be reassured to know i made sure to give him a nice knock with my elbow as he went thundering past.

there’s tonnes more i could write about what i did in the last few months which i’ve never wrote about, but i’m just lazy. my blog’s become boring and non-existant. it’s not even legally a blog anymore. where’s the gossip? where’s all the “he said this, and then she said that, and then he did this and then it was so funny and we laughed hahaha”? where’s all the kawaii ‘let’s pretend i’m not posing for this picture when anyone with half a brain can see i am” pics?

good lord.
i am so behind the times. like, if i don’t get my act together, how can i ever expect to be a famous celebrity blogger with my picture in the newspaper and cnn interviewing me and being featured in this months bloghunk of the month??? i’m depriving everyone of me!

the horror!