I am the grit in the gears, the missing bolt, I am the poker of sticks into spokes.
I like to know how things work, but sometimes when I take them apart and rebuild them, I have a few pieces left over.
I am a man, so I tend to leave reading the instructions until after it goes wrong.
And like all men I have a comprehensive mental map of the world and never need to ask directions.
I never get lost, only sometimes I'm late, or end up in the wrong place entirely.
It's what we do.
Is it thursday? I didn't know, lost track. I would have said wednesday. Went to see the doc this morning... She asked a few questions, listened to my chest, looked down my throat, felt various bits, laughed, and described the symptoms of the last few days. I raised one eyebrow, like james bond does... She missed that and asked why my face was twitching. I said I was trying not to sneeze, Go ahead, handing me a superstrong aerospace kevlar-weave tissue. So I did. A really good one, y'know, where it feels as though half a pound of brain went too. She stretched out a hand for the tissue. I clutched it, looking for a bin.. But she spun out of her seat, kicked me lightly, left right, on the temples, and whilst i was stunned, grabbed the tissue... AND PEELED IT OPEN! ARGH!!!! Green snot and clotted blood. She hit a button on her desk.... "Code 9!" she yelled. Two nurses rushed in and pinned me. Like hounds, but with scented starchy bosoms in my face. We men can endure hours of that. A needle in my arm, and I was floating. A bottle of blood taken, pressures, patch the needle hole.... Fluids, she yelled and they had me on a tea drip in no time. So, here i am, antibioticked to the gunwales, and feeling better. much. I might have exaggerated a little there, but i was confused.
I'm a bit troubled here, The site counter is a clever thing.. I can find out all sorts of things from it. Like, how deep you like your bathwater, what you had for breakfast, and it lets me look out of your computer screen.... It tells me where visitors are (approximately.. the other bit was a fib... it narrows your location down a bit, I still can't quite tell which of several million people you really are)(except by looking out of your screen, of course).... Anyway. This morning. I've been checked out By the Western Australia State Emergency Services.... At 9:30 this morning a computer from there logged on to peruse my comments about gnomery.... As I've said, I deplore the Gnomesville Massacre, I believe it's time for a dialogue with the gnomes.... But I can't deny I'm a bit scared now. Maybe they think it was my earlier gnome post that sparked it off? Thwocketa Thwocketa Thwocketa.... Helicopters are coming, flying upside down... that means they're Australian Oh migod.. run, hide, panic, scrub the hard drives, special forces, abseil.... Oh, hang on. Helicopters. upside down. Phew.They haven't thought this through. Abseil. Rotor. eggwhisk. So, it's a stand-off then.If they land, the lawn gets a short trim. I think I may have time to tunnel my way out, emerge from a manhole down the street and stroll away. If I don't post for a while, it means they got me, and are dragging me back to a land down under, (where the women glow and men plunder), That gives me an Idea.. (Ping!) vegemite... If I make a plateful of vegimite sandwiches, and open some beer. Cricket ball! Somewhere, I'll pretend I know about cricket, we'll be mates, my great uncle was at Gallipoli... Surely they'll know I'm not a gnome basher? Surely. Dig? or sandwich? Oh god, they call 'em 'diggers', SwingKitty'd know what to do, but she's off the radar... Vegemite then. If you don't hear from me, go to Amnesty International and report the circumstances of my disappearance, picket embassies, blog, oh, save me, save me, I'll never make fun of the cultural amenities of Dardanup, Western Australia, again, I swear it!
I think the Aussie Police should look into this instead:
hello I have just looked at your web page about the garden gnomes. I was one of the founders of the UHV AREA /G.A.C.B (gnomes against cigarette butts) my idea was to breed Daresbury gnomes to outwit smokers at the Daresbury Laboratory, with 01. It went horribly wrong one night in the lab, when we bred a smoking mutant gnome, which escaped, and went rampaging, and killing the others, we had to stop him quickly before he killed all the G.A.C.B. We tried the Daresbury lab cats but they was too fat living a life of riley on D/L food. 01 and myself (00) laid down traps but to no avail, so ended the last bastion of G.A.C.M. We had a very very cunning plan in the pipeline and withheld it till last Christmas 2001, Santa's grotto was born to entice him in seeing Santa at work, Santa gave him his present, jelly gnomes laced with T.M.G.VIRUS. It was a horrible death but it was worth it. Now we have to wait, for the land is cursed, for a year and a day so smokers, beware! -the Daresbury gnomes will return someday. Regards 00.