Ra No Samye!
Thursday 7 p.m.
Brian Wilson came to see me on Saturday and took some photies which I sent to Adolf round the other side of the Unheard of Island. If you see one of these photies on Adolf's blog, I always go about dressed like that. Five layers of clothes with a bin bag sandwiched in there for insulation. Complete with the hat, you walk into the street and everybody keeps out your road. This may be something to do with the sweat pouring down your face. It's a portable sauna. I think it will catch on and should soon be purchasable from my webpage once Adolf has set it up with the webcam, etc. Anyone who would like to invest in this business should maybe go to this previous post.
The portable suana may be marketed as a Beer Monster Reduction Vehicle - You Supply the Power! This is because it mostly sweats out beer. I must confess, dear reader, that over the twelve days the domestic bliss has been off in the Americas more than a smidgin of the wonderful beer has passed down my throat. Last night, for example, I drank a bucketful of Grolsch (5% but only 89p a can, unlike the Erdinger at £1:75) while watching Scotland murder Slovenia 3-0 at football. What a great time I had! Scotland have not been very good at football recently, but I had heard of Slovenia. It's featured in a Marx Brothers film, called Duck Soup, I think. I'm not sure where it is though. Anyway, we murdered them!
I really like drinking beer while I'm drinking it. Afterwards, sometimes you do not feel so hot and that's all you know about the beer. That it makes you feel not so hot. But last night when Scotland put in the third goal, I felt great and promised myself that I'd remember what I felt like the next time I think of beer. I just felt wonderful sitting there half pissed.
I'd like to carry that with me as I go into a period of no beer. For there's nothing so lonesome, lonely and queer, what a terrible place is a pub with no beer! The domestic bliss came back today. I went onto the scales. Just under twelve stone. That about 168 lbs. Jack Dempsey was only about seven pounds heavier than that, I think. You wouldn't want to have to fight Jack Dempsey when he was good. Toppled a giant to win the title. An awful, prolonged, total slaughter. I don't even want to fight Marvin Hagler. I want to be down there with the wee people. I've put on a stone since August. That's seven kilo bags of sugar.
People call off-stage. The DVD is waiting. Where are the noise blockers?
Brian Wilson came to see me on Saturday and took some photies which I sent to Adolf round the other side of the Unheard of Island. If you see one of these photies on Adolf's blog, I always go about dressed like that. Five layers of clothes with a bin bag sandwiched in there for insulation. Complete with the hat, you walk into the street and everybody keeps out your road. This may be something to do with the sweat pouring down your face. It's a portable sauna. I think it will catch on and should soon be purchasable from my webpage once Adolf has set it up with the webcam, etc. Anyone who would like to invest in this business should maybe go to this previous post.
The portable suana may be marketed as a Beer Monster Reduction Vehicle - You Supply the Power! This is because it mostly sweats out beer. I must confess, dear reader, that over the twelve days the domestic bliss has been off in the Americas more than a smidgin of the wonderful beer has passed down my throat. Last night, for example, I drank a bucketful of Grolsch (5% but only 89p a can, unlike the Erdinger at £1:75) while watching Scotland murder Slovenia 3-0 at football. What a great time I had! Scotland have not been very good at football recently, but I had heard of Slovenia. It's featured in a Marx Brothers film, called Duck Soup, I think. I'm not sure where it is though. Anyway, we murdered them!
I really like drinking beer while I'm drinking it. Afterwards, sometimes you do not feel so hot and that's all you know about the beer. That it makes you feel not so hot. But last night when Scotland put in the third goal, I felt great and promised myself that I'd remember what I felt like the next time I think of beer. I just felt wonderful sitting there half pissed.
I'd like to carry that with me as I go into a period of no beer. For there's nothing so lonesome, lonely and queer, what a terrible place is a pub with no beer! The domestic bliss came back today. I went onto the scales. Just under twelve stone. That about 168 lbs. Jack Dempsey was only about seven pounds heavier than that, I think. You wouldn't want to have to fight Jack Dempsey when he was good. Toppled a giant to win the title. An awful, prolonged, total slaughter. I don't even want to fight Marvin Hagler. I want to be down there with the wee people. I've put on a stone since August. That's seven kilo bags of sugar.
People call off-stage. The DVD is waiting. Where are the noise blockers?
posted by Hotboy at 7:04 PM
4 Comments:
Is it cold over there? I did notice the warm layers of clothing. Does that distract the penguins?
Lee Ann: Unseasonally warm! But what's that to a Hotboy! The pengos are charming and cute. They are always distracted. They do not get ra bliss, but they don't seem to mind.
Dovey: I know how we can do this and make a fortune. Let's go for the Kate Moss market. The Anoraexic ... Anorexic ... Anor ... The Cookbook for Staying Thin! Lots of recipes you can read without any chance of making them because you don't have the ingredients. Then at the end we tell them about the soup that makes you live forever, but you've got to dig into the earth. Got everything. Is it post-modernist though. It has to be or we don't even talk about it! Hope this helps. Hotboy
LA - This morning I put on my ankle-weights before the one-hour power walk in the heat. The penguins and flatheids stared at the man with the sandbags on his legs, and I sweated off several pounds.
HB - if you can find my comment explaining postmodernism to you a few months ago, that explains everything.
Off the top of my head, doviko's book would need to refer to itself, or to doviko, or (best of all) to doviko's awareness of the act of writing the book, as he does so.
Doviko - some of your recipes should quote knowingly from other recipes.
I hope this helps. If not, see my award-winning account of Ralwin's Postulate.
If you really can't be bothered with the technicalities, you can use this site to generate your postmodern output automatically.
HB - if you ever try jogging with ankle-weights, it's the wierdest sensation, like having magnetic feet. They seem to want to stick to the ground and to each other. Actually, that might be right up your street, a new kind of mind-altering experience. Go for it!
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