Hack and slash it, can you believe the time? It's 1 past 2 past 3 ALREADY, and you know what time that is don't you? Bloody Chico time, that's what time it is. I HATE Chico time; I hate Chico time... anything to do with the X factor's got talent or whatever it is. I mean, really, if I wanted to watch a load of egotistical, narcissistical ego-bloated Effron/Montana style teeny-boppers warbling some out of tune 'rap' music at me I'd go to Tesco Metro. As it is, I often go to Tesco Metro, but not for the above reasons I don't mind telling you.
Phew, it's no longer Chico time... Thank the lord for small mercies that's what I say and I don't know. Well, another day another dollar as they say in Egypt. Imagine that though, only earning 1 measley dollar a day. That would be the equivalent of earning 7 dollars a week, or 52 dollars a year, whatever way you look at it. Assuming that is, you work a 7 day week, which I think I might not be doing thank you very much for asking. It's bad enough having to work 5 days, let alone 52 days a week, blood and stomach pills!
If I had the choice, I'd give up working altogether and do something else instead... maybe I'd be an international star of stage and screen, or perhaps a concert piano or something or whatever... I guess I don't have it that bad mind you; I mean I'm not working as a minor or a butcher or anything like that, and I don't have to work 64 hours a day like what a Doctor does. Mind you, If I got paid what a Doctor does I propbably wouldn't mind working 64 hours a day... It's just I don't particularly like the idea of being covered in old women's piss
Ah well, carpe diem!
MESSAGES FROM THE MOTHER BRAIN
Thursday 7 April 2011
Wonder of the Universe
Hi there
Well if it isn't Saturday again... WAIT, it's not, its Thursday... always get those two/three days of the week mixed up, must be all the 'dark vyhuracil' that's been leaking from the atmospheric cracks that Brian Cox keeps on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on about in his 'Wonderful Universe' telly program. Now there's a thought in't it wasn't it weren't it? The 'glue' (or should that be the gloy?) that holds the universe together is actually 'dark vyhuracil'... who'd have thought it, and there's me thinking it was UHU all along! Talking of Brian Cox, didn't he used to be the trombonist in 'BluRRRRRRRRR' or whatever or something? I think he had to leave because his 'frozen smiling mouth parts' became woefully unsuited to the blowing off of a trombone, and therefore much more suitable for the broadcasting of intergalactic science stuff. I've been thinking though, he should definitely get a few guest presenters in his show... You know who I think he should get? Crafty Bill Shatner, that's who. I mean he's spent a lifetime actually travelling in deep space. There's absolutely nothing about the galaxy, milky way or curly wurly that he doesn't know, and what he doesn't isn't worth knowing and that's true.
I know he probably can't get him anyways, 'cause isn't Shatner a lawyer now or something? Maybe he should try someone else with a better knowledge of the mysteries of the intergalactic zoned area, someone like, erm... Captain Koenig, Dr Who or Luke Skywanker or summat. What is 'dark vyhuracil' anyway and how does Cox know its made of glue? I reckon everything that lying panda says is juct government propaganda to make the public more cautious... a bit like dinosaurs or religion. I mean, what with the recession and all, telling people that the universe is just 'glued' together, it's enough to make anyone panic buy... It's like all these government sponsored food agencies telling us to eat fruit and veg; I think they're trying to put us off meat so we don't go in the sea and realise there's no fish left or something. I think the government are all lying vikings, and make no mistake. Just last week I saw a picture of Lionel Blair and the TV. NO. Wait, Tony Blair I meant. He was a lying cucumber if ever there was one, telling people that Iraq had scunts; (sometimes known as weapons of mass destruction).
Well if it isn't Saturday again... WAIT, it's not, its Thursday... always get those two/three days of the week mixed up, must be all the 'dark vyhuracil' that's been leaking from the atmospheric cracks that Brian Cox keeps on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on and on about in his 'Wonderful Universe' telly program. Now there's a thought in't it wasn't it weren't it? The 'glue' (or should that be the gloy?) that holds the universe together is actually 'dark vyhuracil'... who'd have thought it, and there's me thinking it was UHU all along! Talking of Brian Cox, didn't he used to be the trombonist in 'BluRRRRRRRRR' or whatever or something? I think he had to leave because his 'frozen smiling mouth parts' became woefully unsuited to the blowing off of a trombone, and therefore much more suitable for the broadcasting of intergalactic science stuff. I've been thinking though, he should definitely get a few guest presenters in his show... You know who I think he should get? Crafty Bill Shatner, that's who. I mean he's spent a lifetime actually travelling in deep space. There's absolutely nothing about the galaxy, milky way or curly wurly that he doesn't know, and what he doesn't isn't worth knowing and that's true.
I know he probably can't get him anyways, 'cause isn't Shatner a lawyer now or something? Maybe he should try someone else with a better knowledge of the mysteries of the intergalactic zoned area, someone like, erm... Captain Koenig, Dr Who or Luke Skywanker or summat. What is 'dark vyhuracil' anyway and how does Cox know its made of glue? I reckon everything that lying panda says is juct government propaganda to make the public more cautious... a bit like dinosaurs or religion. I mean, what with the recession and all, telling people that the universe is just 'glued' together, it's enough to make anyone panic buy... It's like all these government sponsored food agencies telling us to eat fruit and veg; I think they're trying to put us off meat so we don't go in the sea and realise there's no fish left or something. I think the government are all lying vikings, and make no mistake. Just last week I saw a picture of Lionel Blair and the TV. NO. Wait, Tony Blair I meant. He was a lying cucumber if ever there was one, telling people that Iraq had scunts; (sometimes known as weapons of mass destruction).
Bustin hell! Just been on to the television status screen on the BBC area and you'll never guess who's been on??? That's right! Wilmot Chase! He/she used to be a real favorite back in the day... you know, the days before vyhuracil or hoggaglust. That's when time really was time and Juliet Bravo was the real deal. Not like these country file house programs about Claire Sweeney, or Sweeeeeeeny Todd or whatever he/she is called. NO, proper days... Days when your Mam/Dad took you fishing for stocking trailers, or your Granny/Nan taught you how to cook marvel comics or Dulux... Proper old times, times when your Aunty/Uncle would sit you on their knee caps and rock your world with memories of old... (mammories of old?... can't remember)...
Anyways, yes... what was I saying about anyway...??? OH YES, that's it! Private Benjamin's got Goldie Hawn's ass on the wire over that one; if you know what I mean. She could never tango in Paris the way Brucie did back in the day. Now he WAS a mover and a shaker if you know what I mean... What was that song about him? You know, the one with the woman (I think it was a woman, so hard to tell these days don't you think?) anyway up, yes, that song about Brucie's bonus... SHAKE AND VAC!!! That was it!!! Definitely ... I can see her/him now, parading around the rug, sprinkling her dog* with dust, just so she could hoover it up after.... Talk about digging holes just to fill them in again! how stupid.
* by dog I actually mean 'dog', and not her fanny or anything like that.
I mean the tellybox has some darn strange programs don't you know... look at day time programs... there's a new one, ooh, what's it called again??? Can't remember, but it's really funny... VANESSA! That's the one, you know it, there's like this really fat woman who can't move her eyebrows and she sits with her husband and chats to famous people no-ones ever heard of. It's brilliant AND it's really funny. Sometimes if I'm home and not polishing or looking at the mirror and I happen to put this VANESSA on the telly machine, I can literally fall of my couch chair just laughing. It's hilarium, it really isn't.
Anyways around, I shan't be watching any televisuals today, I'm WAY too busy at work. Honestly, work work work, that's all I ever do. Work work work work work work work... Anyone would think I was a goddam work-aholic the amount of work I do. Honestly, this is my day righ,: I get up to go to WORK, actually go to WORK, do some WORK, do a bit more WORK, have like 3 seconds to eat a scrap lunch; ('IF' I've got time), and then right back to doing more WORK. Honestly, AND it's starting to show, I've got tennis elbow, Housemaid's knee and biker's pancreas. I'm literally a walking textbook of medical phenomenonemonemenon.
Just last week whilst I was hoovering the dog, I bent down to lift my toes up when CRACK... bang went my spina bifida; all up the wall. Then there was that time I was dusting the plugs; I simply leant over to grab another knob of butter and KWANG... I split my gizzard... then there was the incident when I was sloughing the panpipes; all I did was waggle my coccyx and CRUNCH... all my back legs fell off. It's a miracle of mother nature that I'm able to ice skate at all I don't mind telling you. Actually, I can't Ice skate, I'm thinking of that other one; blood and sand, who is it again... he/she's on that Brucie program with Brucie Fosdyke, you know it, where some really famous faces are Dancing on ice'? Something on ice? Skating on dance? Can't remember exactly what it's called, but that's definitely what I was thinking about when I said I can skate. Anyway, the one I'm thinking about used to be on the skate/dance ice program years ago, what's her bloody name??? That's it!! Got it!!! Philadelphia Schofeld. He used to be on the telly box when I was knee high to a grasshopper... did the kiddies TV things he did, with that puppet that does the Compare the market ads now. Grimy Gordon or something.
Anyway, got to go now 'cause I'm really busy wroking at work.
No rest for the wicked!!!
Anyways, yes... what was I saying about anyway...??? OH YES, that's it! Private Benjamin's got Goldie Hawn's ass on the wire over that one; if you know what I mean. She could never tango in Paris the way Brucie did back in the day. Now he WAS a mover and a shaker if you know what I mean... What was that song about him? You know, the one with the woman (I think it was a woman, so hard to tell these days don't you think?) anyway up, yes, that song about Brucie's bonus... SHAKE AND VAC!!! That was it!!! Definitely ... I can see her/him now, parading around the rug, sprinkling her dog* with dust, just so she could hoover it up after.... Talk about digging holes just to fill them in again! how stupid.
* by dog I actually mean 'dog', and not her fanny or anything like that.
I mean the tellybox has some darn strange programs don't you know... look at day time programs... there's a new one, ooh, what's it called again??? Can't remember, but it's really funny... VANESSA! That's the one, you know it, there's like this really fat woman who can't move her eyebrows and she sits with her husband and chats to famous people no-ones ever heard of. It's brilliant AND it's really funny. Sometimes if I'm home and not polishing or looking at the mirror and I happen to put this VANESSA on the telly machine, I can literally fall of my couch chair just laughing. It's hilarium, it really isn't.
Anyways around, I shan't be watching any televisuals today, I'm WAY too busy at work. Honestly, work work work, that's all I ever do. Work work work work work work work... Anyone would think I was a goddam work-aholic the amount of work I do. Honestly, this is my day righ,: I get up to go to WORK, actually go to WORK, do some WORK, do a bit more WORK, have like 3 seconds to eat a scrap lunch; ('IF' I've got time), and then right back to doing more WORK. Honestly, AND it's starting to show, I've got tennis elbow, Housemaid's knee and biker's pancreas. I'm literally a walking textbook of medical phenomenonemonemenon.
Just last week whilst I was hoovering the dog, I bent down to lift my toes up when CRACK... bang went my spina bifida; all up the wall. Then there was that time I was dusting the plugs; I simply leant over to grab another knob of butter and KWANG... I split my gizzard... then there was the incident when I was sloughing the panpipes; all I did was waggle my coccyx and CRUNCH... all my back legs fell off. It's a miracle of mother nature that I'm able to ice skate at all I don't mind telling you. Actually, I can't Ice skate, I'm thinking of that other one; blood and sand, who is it again... he/she's on that Brucie program with Brucie Fosdyke, you know it, where some really famous faces are Dancing on ice'? Something on ice? Skating on dance? Can't remember exactly what it's called, but that's definitely what I was thinking about when I said I can skate. Anyway, the one I'm thinking about used to be on the skate/dance ice program years ago, what's her bloody name??? That's it!! Got it!!! Philadelphia Schofeld. He used to be on the telly box when I was knee high to a grasshopper... did the kiddies TV things he did, with that puppet that does the Compare the market ads now. Grimy Gordon or something.
Anyway, got to go now 'cause I'm really busy wroking at work.
No rest for the wicked!!!
Ooh I am warm, but in't it cold?
God damn this eternal heat blast. I came out this morning to a cold grey atmospheric condition, thus plastered on 15 layers of wool, PVC and Rubber to keep me both the warm AND the dry and not 15 seconds after motorwaying through to the work zoned area, all the grey went to Scotland leaving a giant heat crack hanging over the countrywide area, creating a heat blast equivalent to Zambia in July. This has caused the PVC and Rubber garments to melt away, vulcanising my flesh and turning me into a walking bin bag. Just what the Dr ordered and no mistake. Hopefully, as the heat begins to boil, the melted plastic second skin should drop off and I'll be fine by luncheon. Not that I'm complaining mind, I prefer a heat crack to a rain down any week of the day, be it Wednesday, Thursday or Christmas Cracker day. Mind you, not much chance of a heat blast on Christmas Cracker day, not unless you're on Bondai beach or somesuch.
Apparently Easter on Bondai is a big disaster make no errors on this one please... Allegedly, so many melted eggs end up in the ocean that a swarm of hens is guaranteed pretty much every Easter if you live down under. What an odyssey that would be, by and by! Poor hens though, all those feathers in heat crack temperatures, they must be roasting make no mistake.
Talking about roast chickens, guess what I had for dinner the day before last? That's right! Fish and gravy. But honestly, would you eat fish with gravy? I wouldn't, horrible. Filling and nutritious to be sure, but tastes like a block of flats and make no mistake. I mean beef and fish? Winning combination. That's like eating lamb and crab, or burger and scampi, or prawn and steak... Oh no, wait a minute, they DO eat that don't they... smurf and turf apparently? Honestly, there's nowt as queer as folk and make no mistake and soforth and so-on. No wonder we're a nation of fatties when you think about it. I mean take me, I've ALWAYS been quite the fat, even since I was an eft. In fact, I was such a fat eft I could drink 4 lots of bust milk in 1 sitting; not mother's bustage of course, that would be wrong; no, the milk from a cow's bustage, which is by far the more natural and the convenient method of bust food. I think more and more women (and men now) are contmplating the effortless wonder of cow bust-milk for thier pet babies. Appartently it stops blow fly and foot and mouth; so I guess it makes sense really.
Were you fed by mother's bust or cow? What about your eft? Oh that's right, bust fed, I remember well the smell.
Apparently Easter on Bondai is a big disaster make no errors on this one please... Allegedly, so many melted eggs end up in the ocean that a swarm of hens is guaranteed pretty much every Easter if you live down under. What an odyssey that would be, by and by! Poor hens though, all those feathers in heat crack temperatures, they must be roasting make no mistake.
Talking about roast chickens, guess what I had for dinner the day before last? That's right! Fish and gravy. But honestly, would you eat fish with gravy? I wouldn't, horrible. Filling and nutritious to be sure, but tastes like a block of flats and make no mistake. I mean beef and fish? Winning combination. That's like eating lamb and crab, or burger and scampi, or prawn and steak... Oh no, wait a minute, they DO eat that don't they... smurf and turf apparently? Honestly, there's nowt as queer as folk and make no mistake and soforth and so-on. No wonder we're a nation of fatties when you think about it. I mean take me, I've ALWAYS been quite the fat, even since I was an eft. In fact, I was such a fat eft I could drink 4 lots of bust milk in 1 sitting; not mother's bustage of course, that would be wrong; no, the milk from a cow's bustage, which is by far the more natural and the convenient method of bust food. I think more and more women (and men now) are contmplating the effortless wonder of cow bust-milk for thier pet babies. Appartently it stops blow fly and foot and mouth; so I guess it makes sense really.
Were you fed by mother's bust or cow? What about your eft? Oh that's right, bust fed, I remember well the smell.
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