Day 152
I worry about the individuals who read this diary.
I was rather hoping that any correspondence cluttering up my in-box would have moved on from rude place names around the World and concern itself with subject matter that could be mulled over in polite society.
I should have known better.
Rather than continuing the discussion with further towns and villages, it was dragged down to a level I didn’t think possible with road names.
I’ll refrain from repeating the precise details but can assure you there are many, many streets around the World with names explicitly relating to things that go into bodies, things that come out of them and every revoltingly imaginable stage in between.
Lovely.
On an even more disturbing note, I should report on the progress of Small Child who’s been thankfully quiet over the last few days.
Society has, for some reason, labelled these horrible little things “toddlers” which is like calling an axe murderer a “tickler”. The name evokes images of cute little infants wobbling along with chubby smiling faces
Nothing could be further from the truth.
They scuttle around like scorpions in search of a victim and rather than a slow totter, they are capable of shifting with extraordinary speed.
They also can’t keep their hands off anything.
This afternoon I was happily relaxed in the bedroom watching an old episode of Scooby Doo and jotting down a few words for this diary when the door bell rang.
I skipped downstairs and answered it to find a nice young lady standing there trying to sell me double glazing. Even the most cursory glance at the front of the house should have alerted her to the fact we already have such a product but this didn’t seem to deter her.
You should understand that I’m usually quite keen on the arrival of door-to-door salesmen and welcome them with open arms.
Very much like Jehovah Witnesses, they have been so brainwashed and indoctrinated by their respective organizations that even the most rudimentary of applied logical argument can reduce them to quivering wrecks. It’s a great game and I urge you all to give it a go.
Anyway, I’d just dangled an initial carrot in front of her greedy little eyes when I found myself dangling something far more substantial than a figurative vegetable.
I sensed something behind me and before I could prevent it, the youngest member of the household had grabbed hold of my tracksuit trousers and yanked them down to my ankles.
Faced with this horribly hairy image, the saleswoman gave a gargled high pitched squeal and ran away.
Small Child received a mild dressing down for that one after its mother had stopped laughing. Short of caging it like a zoo animal I have no idea how to prevent this kind of thing. Any suggestions would be welcome.
If I had any illusions as to my status as a crap poker play prior to the game today, they were completely dispelled. I entered the 10 FPP tournament and deliberately stayed out of trouble knowing that by reaching the top 900 I would add a huge 15cents to my account. I did precisely that, was knocked out in 807th place and then discovered it payed the top 800.
What a fucking idiot.
It was about two minutes after my discovery that I opened the Southern Comfort and steered clear of the tables for the rest of the day.
After these endeavours I may very well contact some of my correspondents and see if any of them have located a road aptly named to my poker skills.
If there’s a “Playslikeanarsehole Avenue” please let me know.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $1.15
I was rather hoping that any correspondence cluttering up my in-box would have moved on from rude place names around the World and concern itself with subject matter that could be mulled over in polite society.
I should have known better.
Rather than continuing the discussion with further towns and villages, it was dragged down to a level I didn’t think possible with road names.
I’ll refrain from repeating the precise details but can assure you there are many, many streets around the World with names explicitly relating to things that go into bodies, things that come out of them and every revoltingly imaginable stage in between.
Lovely.
On an even more disturbing note, I should report on the progress of Small Child who’s been thankfully quiet over the last few days.
Society has, for some reason, labelled these horrible little things “toddlers” which is like calling an axe murderer a “tickler”. The name evokes images of cute little infants wobbling along with chubby smiling faces
Nothing could be further from the truth.
They scuttle around like scorpions in search of a victim and rather than a slow totter, they are capable of shifting with extraordinary speed.
They also can’t keep their hands off anything.
This afternoon I was happily relaxed in the bedroom watching an old episode of Scooby Doo and jotting down a few words for this diary when the door bell rang.
I skipped downstairs and answered it to find a nice young lady standing there trying to sell me double glazing. Even the most cursory glance at the front of the house should have alerted her to the fact we already have such a product but this didn’t seem to deter her.
You should understand that I’m usually quite keen on the arrival of door-to-door salesmen and welcome them with open arms.
Very much like Jehovah Witnesses, they have been so brainwashed and indoctrinated by their respective organizations that even the most rudimentary of applied logical argument can reduce them to quivering wrecks. It’s a great game and I urge you all to give it a go.
Anyway, I’d just dangled an initial carrot in front of her greedy little eyes when I found myself dangling something far more substantial than a figurative vegetable.
I sensed something behind me and before I could prevent it, the youngest member of the household had grabbed hold of my tracksuit trousers and yanked them down to my ankles.
Faced with this horribly hairy image, the saleswoman gave a gargled high pitched squeal and ran away.
Small Child received a mild dressing down for that one after its mother had stopped laughing. Short of caging it like a zoo animal I have no idea how to prevent this kind of thing. Any suggestions would be welcome.
If I had any illusions as to my status as a crap poker play prior to the game today, they were completely dispelled. I entered the 10 FPP tournament and deliberately stayed out of trouble knowing that by reaching the top 900 I would add a huge 15cents to my account. I did precisely that, was knocked out in 807th place and then discovered it payed the top 800.
What a fucking idiot.
It was about two minutes after my discovery that I opened the Southern Comfort and steered clear of the tables for the rest of the day.
After these endeavours I may very well contact some of my correspondents and see if any of them have located a road aptly named to my poker skills.
If there’s a “Playslikeanarsehole Avenue” please let me know.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $1.15