Day 123
Oh dear.
I think I may have started something.
Yesterday I floated the idea of using bodily parts as musical instruments and it appears from the various e-mails I received that quite a few of you have given it a go.
Congratulations should be forwarded to the reader who has discovered a previously hidden ability to belch the first verse of “Love Me Tender” whilst someone else has found he can perform a passable rendition of “Yellow Submarine” if he shoves a corn flake up his nostril and breaths through his nose.
I’d be interested in receiving video evidence from the female who said she can do the drum solo from “Hawaii Five-O” by slapping her bare buttocks but was less keen on the person who proudly boasted he can play the flute…without using his mouth.
I won’t give you the details.
However, I knew it was time to draw this subject to a conclusion when another gentleman explained that while he was having sex with his wife last night, her vagina made a noise like the motorbike refrain in “Bat Out of Hell”.
Um…that’s not exactly what I had in mind but thanks for sharing.
I suspect his wife will induce a sound from him like the screeching guitar solo at the end of the song when she squeezes his testicles for letting me know.
Even so, if enough people contact me I might get an orchestra together.
One thing that doesn’t need any kind of prompting to make strange noises is Small Child, although what comes out of it can’t in any way be described as tuneful.
Earlier today I was in the kitchen organizing a snack for lunch and I heard something coming from the living room that sounded like a frog gargling a mouthful of frozen peas followed closely by a splash.
I didn’t bother going in to see for myself what had happened; as it was very obvious it had thrown up its breakfast…again. This in itself was quite an achievement as it had already managed the feat twice since eating.
Rather than hanging around to find out the extent of what was obviously going to be a truly horrific scene, I fled upstairs, locked myself in the bedroom and turned up the television to drown out whatever revolting sounds it intended to make next.
While doing this I noticed an interesting news item on Amy Winehouse, the well-known singer and narcotics enthusiast.
Apparently, she’s in trouble with the authorities again for some kind of assault after her latest holiday in a rehab clinic.
Although I hope it doesn’t, as I really enjoy her music, this unfortunate incident could result in a postponement of an upcoming recording/tour. If her session musicians are therefore unavailable due to other commitments it may be difficult to find replacements at short notice.
This gave me a very obvious idea, might I suggest that rather than sending me anymore details of your bodily talents, send them to a record company and you might find yourself featuring on the radio.
Alternatively, why not drop a line to Simon Cowell and see if you can get on the next American Idol.
I wasn’t expecting miracles on the poker front following two days of unusually successful play at the freeroll tables.
In that respect I wasn’t disappointed.
The first game was a complete washout as I made a timing error as to its start. I was happily splashing around in a very hot bath that was blissfully therapeutic to my back when the first cards were dealt. Unfortunately the current Mrs. Snowman took advantage of the miscalculation and unilaterally decided to start the game on my behalf.
From the time it took to get out of the bath and drip my way to the computer she’d been eliminated. A brief discussion followed regarding the inadvisability of calling an all-in raise with a pair of 9’s when there are three over cards and a flush draw on the board.
The second attempt went slightly better and I lasted for just under three hours before being blinded out after a series of terrible beats.
Tomorrow sees the first of my cash games for which I qualified and I intend to play with the same gusto and determination that got me there in the first place.
We shall see.
Another point arising from the body part musical theme occurred while I was writing this very entry.
As usual I took a break half way thorough to check my e-mails to see if there were any late items of interest that should be included. One letter was indeed from a reader who’d taken the melodic aspect to its natural progression.
He’d made a recording of it and sent it to me as a digital attachment.
I can stipulate for certain that he is both a regular reader and has a sense of humour because it was a rendition of a Spice Girls number.
I would like to report that someone farting to a background soundtrack of “Viva Forever” was a bad idea, but sadly I can't.
I thought it sounded better than the original.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $0.48
I think I may have started something.
Yesterday I floated the idea of using bodily parts as musical instruments and it appears from the various e-mails I received that quite a few of you have given it a go.
Congratulations should be forwarded to the reader who has discovered a previously hidden ability to belch the first verse of “Love Me Tender” whilst someone else has found he can perform a passable rendition of “Yellow Submarine” if he shoves a corn flake up his nostril and breaths through his nose.
I’d be interested in receiving video evidence from the female who said she can do the drum solo from “Hawaii Five-O” by slapping her bare buttocks but was less keen on the person who proudly boasted he can play the flute…without using his mouth.
I won’t give you the details.
However, I knew it was time to draw this subject to a conclusion when another gentleman explained that while he was having sex with his wife last night, her vagina made a noise like the motorbike refrain in “Bat Out of Hell”.
Um…that’s not exactly what I had in mind but thanks for sharing.
I suspect his wife will induce a sound from him like the screeching guitar solo at the end of the song when she squeezes his testicles for letting me know.
Even so, if enough people contact me I might get an orchestra together.
One thing that doesn’t need any kind of prompting to make strange noises is Small Child, although what comes out of it can’t in any way be described as tuneful.
Earlier today I was in the kitchen organizing a snack for lunch and I heard something coming from the living room that sounded like a frog gargling a mouthful of frozen peas followed closely by a splash.
I didn’t bother going in to see for myself what had happened; as it was very obvious it had thrown up its breakfast…again. This in itself was quite an achievement as it had already managed the feat twice since eating.
Rather than hanging around to find out the extent of what was obviously going to be a truly horrific scene, I fled upstairs, locked myself in the bedroom and turned up the television to drown out whatever revolting sounds it intended to make next.
While doing this I noticed an interesting news item on Amy Winehouse, the well-known singer and narcotics enthusiast.
Apparently, she’s in trouble with the authorities again for some kind of assault after her latest holiday in a rehab clinic.
Although I hope it doesn’t, as I really enjoy her music, this unfortunate incident could result in a postponement of an upcoming recording/tour. If her session musicians are therefore unavailable due to other commitments it may be difficult to find replacements at short notice.
This gave me a very obvious idea, might I suggest that rather than sending me anymore details of your bodily talents, send them to a record company and you might find yourself featuring on the radio.
Alternatively, why not drop a line to Simon Cowell and see if you can get on the next American Idol.
I wasn’t expecting miracles on the poker front following two days of unusually successful play at the freeroll tables.
In that respect I wasn’t disappointed.
The first game was a complete washout as I made a timing error as to its start. I was happily splashing around in a very hot bath that was blissfully therapeutic to my back when the first cards were dealt. Unfortunately the current Mrs. Snowman took advantage of the miscalculation and unilaterally decided to start the game on my behalf.
From the time it took to get out of the bath and drip my way to the computer she’d been eliminated. A brief discussion followed regarding the inadvisability of calling an all-in raise with a pair of 9’s when there are three over cards and a flush draw on the board.
The second attempt went slightly better and I lasted for just under three hours before being blinded out after a series of terrible beats.
Tomorrow sees the first of my cash games for which I qualified and I intend to play with the same gusto and determination that got me there in the first place.
We shall see.
Another point arising from the body part musical theme occurred while I was writing this very entry.
As usual I took a break half way thorough to check my e-mails to see if there were any late items of interest that should be included. One letter was indeed from a reader who’d taken the melodic aspect to its natural progression.
He’d made a recording of it and sent it to me as a digital attachment.
I can stipulate for certain that he is both a regular reader and has a sense of humour because it was a rendition of a Spice Girls number.
I would like to report that someone farting to a background soundtrack of “Viva Forever” was a bad idea, but sadly I can't.
I thought it sounded better than the original.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $0.48