I've been doing a lot of thinking recently about weather forecasting, and, more specifically, how it can be improved and made more relevent to the way we live our lives today. And to be perfectly honest, I haven't come up with anything. My background is in accountancy and I work in a library. It's not even a public library, for chrissakes, and I don't even handle any books. So I've decided I'm not going to purport to understand a subject about which I have no knowledge whatsoever.
Anyway, apparently the sun is going to die out in a couple of billion years time. And frankly, I'm fine with that. It's too bloody hot here today, and I've been chewing ice all day to try to cool myself down. It hasn't worked. All I have to show for it is a massive, albeit fictional, toothache, and a pain in my tummy because I also had eight cans of beer earlier. But the point is, if the sun dies out there will be no need to worry about it eclipsing the moon anymore. I've always held a strong objection the way the sun obliterates the moon every few years. The big bully.
I don't like bullies. I myself was once slapped repeatedy with a wet blanket by a guy called Melon or Malnon or something. I'm not sure what he was trying to achieve, but he did very kindly leave me the blanket, and after I had dry-cleaned it several times using some melted dry-ice, I cut it up into little squares, and I have never run out of dish cloths since. Anyway, hi Melonhead if you're reading this.
Dry ice, in case you're wondering, is a sort of chemical used in chemistry classes at school The sole purpose of chemistry laboratories is to scare children into thinking that they could poison themselves to death instantly if they were to accidentally come into contact with the various substances stored in the lab. Absolute nonsense of course. I have dry ice in my diet cola every day, and it's never done me any harm. When the cola runs out, I eat the remaining dry ice cubes. They leave my throat feeling rather raw, but at least I don't have to worry about my stomach becoming wet at an inconvenient time. Like for example five-thirty pm.
Five thirty pm, in case you're wondering, is the time at which my teddy bear, Bowsy, gets fed. I feed him bits of anything that I can find lying around on the carpet. It's mostly fluff, but sometimes there's the odd crumb of something more substantial, which I save for special occasions such as the day after Saint Patrick's Day. I'm not going to waste bits of smoked salmon sandwiches on some damn soft toy with one eye. But the point is, tea is much, much better than coffee for mending holes in the space-time continuom. Not that I've ever had to attempt such a repair. Whenever I notice a tear in the fabric of time-space, I pretend I haven't seen it, and leave it for the next person who passes, to sort out. I know that's selfish of me, but I really don't like to get involved in these fancy science phenomenons, especially when it's been raining all day and I have to put my clothes on the radiator to dry before the sun goes down. My radiators are solar powered, in case you're wondering. Hang on, they're going to stop working when the sun dies, aren't they. Dammit.
Well, there's no point crying over spilt milk, is there. I never worry about spilt milk. Unless it's on the carpet or something. If that's the case, I panic and run around the perimiter fence of this place, screaming my head off. I usually get halfway around before the guards catch me and tell me the supermarket's going to be closing in ten minutes and that I should take my purchases to the checkout without delay.
Maybe I should save myself some time and put some re-runs up here sometimes.
| NewsBurp 30th January 2006 |
Today: Fashion and incorrect breakfasts (With illustrations)
I've always prided myself on keeping up with the latest fashions and trends. And in that vein, I've recently bought myself a pointy green hat with a three inch long flap of elastic at the front to cover my eyebrows (which of course are no longer fashionable) and a free-range eggshell glued to the top, rather like a bobble. I'm not telling you this just to show off by the way. I do have a point - it's just that the eggshell thing fits snuggly over it so it's not visible.
I prefer things to be rounded rather than pointy. A well-rounded person can't hurt you by pointing the top of his or head at you and stabbing you with it. And I've always found that very reassuring in a world gone mad. I myself am round rather than pointy, except for my toenails, which are long and mighty.
That's one part of my masculininty that I am not prepared to sacrifice. A man's toenails should be maintained at a length at least long enough to be able, in theory, to turn them into noodle sticks. Don't eat them, obviously, because you'll hurt your back, but you can always put them on display on top of the microwave as a momento of the day when you decided you were going to be a man, and not cut your toenails
In some cultures, microwaves and other household appliances are themselves considered (mistakenly, in my opinion) to be signs of masculinity. In China, for example, a four-slice toaster means you sweat a lot. But that's bound to happen anyway if you have your head over a toaster all day. The English prefer to make toast under the grill, and I've always found that to be a marvellously civilised way of doing things. You can't get sweaty in front of a grill, unless you open the door very wide and poke your head in to see whether the toast is ready. But that shouldn't be necessary if you have a suitably-converted egg timer, to which you have attached some sort of toast adaptor, so that it can time the toast. But you know all this already.
The point is, round things are better. Allow me to demonstrate. Take a look at the following diagrams.
So anyway, back to the toast. I prefer mine with marmalade and sunflower margarine, rather than peanut butter. But I'm prepared to tolerate differing tastes. Within limits of course. There's no excuse for putting cheese on anything at breakfast. Hello everybody in the USA if you're listening. Cheese is not a breakfast food, okay? Although I can see how you would get confused, what with other dairy items, such as milk, being very widely used in morning eating sessions. But cheese is different from milk, in ways that are too subtle to explain properly here. But you'll understand, some day. Then you'll thank me for putting you straight. Until then, take my word for it. Cheese into breakfast doesn't go. Ditto ham.
Personally, I like Sugar Puffs in ice-cold milk. But I always take the ice out just before I eat it. Ice is re-usable, and I don't like to put anything to waste, so I put the used ice back in the freezer for later. We all must do our best to preserve the world's precious natural resources, you know, and ice is one of those. There are polar bears who would kill for an ice cube right now. Or a Fox's Glacier Mint. Whichever is cheaper. It's mainly a homesickness thing. They'd probably be able to get over it and become happier if they weren't being kept in the Sahara Desert Zoo.
