Moisturise your own behind, tommy swinehund

Well then.  Mrs T has kindly given me some words to write a story with.  Naturally, being a mother and someone of a terribly sensible nature, as you can imagine, the are long complex serious words.  They are: Bottom cream, Nipples, Latex gloves and Adolf Hitler. 

Naturally.  Anyway, here we go.

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away lived Darth Adolf.  Darth Adolf was an evil man.  A man of guilty pleasures.  He also had the softest bottom in the universe.  This was his Achilles heel.  Well, Achilles behind.  Of course, it is up to the women of the world to decide if Brad Pitt had a soft behind in the film Troy.    So maybe he had a behind as soft as a baby’s bottom.  But then, is it really that soft?  Tell you what, lets just say that Darth Adolf had a terribly soft behind. But yes, it was his weakness.  If he didn’t have a soft behind, he would sob like a big girl and people would point and laugh at him and call him Daft Adolf.

The reason his behind was so soft was because his nipples would seep a cream which he would wipe on his behind.  It is not known why he decided to rub the strange liquid on to his behind, but then, the man was as mad as a hallucinogenic frog eating his own foot, so best not to ask too many questions.

Darth Adolf decided to get out of the being evil game which was making his behind a little rough and fled the galaxy, opening a knitting shop.  But with the fear of the authorities coming to get him, Darth Adolf realised he needed to change his name.  He changed his name to Yarny Specklebottom.  This was to make it look like he was always going to open a knitting shop because of his name, and to stop people thinking that he would have a supersoft self moisturised bottom.  But Yarny couldn’t help himself.  He started selling his seepage as a “under the counter” product.  He called it “Hitler Spanky’s Famous Bottom Feeder”, with the tag line “Wiping your own behind never felt so good”. It sold by the crate once word got around.  People started to wonder who this “Hitler Spanky” was.  Who was the creator behind the cream?  Yarny just couldn’t help himself and told everyone his real name was Darth Adolf Hitler but he used Hitler Spanky as a stage name for his product.

Being so far away from the galaxy which he caused havoc in, he never thought word would get back that he had been found.  But good news travels fast, and a couple of weeks later, he was raided by the intergalactic idiot rounding up squad.

Armed with bats and latex gloves, Adolf was arrested and taken to an examination room where the latex gloves were used to probe him as much as they could.  There was no medical reason for this, he just really deserved it.  They left one of their bats attached to his kidney for extra effect.  It was then that they realised how soft his behind was.  They interrogated him for 11 hours (he had told them inside the first 30 seconds, but he really did deserve the pain) and realised that the cream was coming from his nipples.  They worked out that Adolf had been milking himself in to the pots and there was no additional additive involved.  Adolf really was a soft worthless arse who was more in to making ladies bottoms cream then being a real man.

They glued up Adolf’s nipples and used coarse sandpaper on his behind and poked fun at him telling him that his bottom cream would never be seen again, and that his behind would become dry and rough.  A few days later, this happened.  It was as dry as my mouth the morning after a particularly heavy drinking session.

Adolf was devastated.  He sat in his cell weeping like a great big girls blouse threatening the universe with revenge.  So they decided it would be better if he was locked up in a straight jacket and his behind whipped everyday, so is left with nothing but a very itchy behind and no way to scratch it. 

But it is OK, no one likes him anyway.

The Names P.I Hamster. Mad Cow Investigator.

Before I start this post, I thought I would mention that in the last week, I have had at least 3 searches a day for people searching for Hamster Porn.  WHY!!!  Why are people searching for it?  Look for normal porn if you need to search for something!  Or….do Hamsters have their own PC’s now?  I hadn’t thought of that.  I feel dirty now, knowing that a hamster found my site while looking for something other then what I have on the site.

Anyhoo…

I somehow in the midst of doing stuff, completely missed the 4 words/phrases Rose gave me to write a post with.   My laptop apologises in a way not seen since last time I messed up.  Now.  Rose has gone the mad dead investigative hamster route on this one.  Well, actually, she gave me “Breeding hamsters”, “hamster making squeaking noise”, “Elvis ain’t dead” and “mad cow investigator” to work with.  Which basically means she needs to get out more.  And not just to the therapy sessions.

So.  Armed with my thinking juice, which at this present time is called Jura 10 year whisky, I present to you the story of…erm…well, I dunno.  I havent decided:

“I have a dream”.  This well known phrase was said by the same person who said “It’s not easy being green”.  The poor guy.  He had a dream to not be green.  But could it be done?  Actually, yes it could.  It was the breakthrough case of Hammy “Hamster” Hutchinson.  Hammy is a P.I from Pratts Bottom in Kent.  After this successful investigation, he was in big demand from a whole bunch of freakazoids wishing for him to look in to pointless stupid tasks.  But that was Hammy, and what he loved to do.  So he did.  Which was nice of him.

Hammy was currently working on a big case.  Someone wanting to know if Elvis was really dead.  While in his office doing some paperwork, a mysterious woman came in to the office.  What was mysterious about her?  I hear you ask.  Well, he didnt know who she was.  That is a pretty good start.  And she walked in a very weird way, with an unusual look on her face.  Something seemed different.

“Mr Hutchinson?” the woman said.

“Indeed I am!” Hammy replied, rising from his chair to shake her hand.

“I apologise for my weird walk, my heel broke walking up the stairs”.  This went some way to explaining the Quasimodo walk she had going on.  It didn’t explain the dribbling and lazy eye.

Hammy asked her what he could do for her and she replied “I need to know if I have Mad Cow Disease”.

“Weird” thought Hammy.  Why doesn’t the mad cow just go to the hospital.  “I cannot accept this case I am afraid.  I am not knowledgeable in mad cow disease.  I apologise.”  The woman stared at him, her lazy eye twitching and eyes following a fly around the room twitching.  She got up and hobbled out of the room dribbling on the floor as she went. 

Continuing his investigation in to Elvis, Hammy visited Amsterdam.  He had heard of an impressionist there who just seemed a little better then all the other Elvis impersonator.  To save money, Hammy hired out a cheap hotel room.  Trying to get a good nights sleep before the investigating the following morning, Hammy was disturbed to hear a couple in the room next door.  The bed frame banging against the wall resembled a rabid hamster making a squeaking noise like it was his last run on his wheel and he was giving it beans the best he could.  Hammy wasn’t happy, but what did he expect for a room he paid for in 30 minute slots.  So, putting some loose change in to the machine by the side of the bed, he decided to play with his new Dictaphone and did some notes, not realising with the vibration of the bed, he would be better listening to the playback while under water.

Come the morning, Hammy got up and skipping breakfast, he went to the cafe where the Elvis impersonator was said to be working. 

“I am hungry” thought Hammy as he got to the cafe.  But being a vegematarian (Sy:  Yes I know how to spell it, but I like this way more!), all Hammy could find to eat were packs of mushrooms.  This seemed weird to Hammy.  Why would they sell packs of mushrooms but not much else.  What kind of a cafe was this he was in?  So he ate a few packs to keep him going.  Naturally, eating these mushrooms did a lot more then feed his hunger and shortly after, he was seeing a lot more.  Suddenly in his drugged up state, people seemed to be wearing lederhosen and clogs and everything was a pretty yellow daffodil colour.

Then, the music started.  “Are you lonesome tonight” he heard.  Hammy shouted out “Your rubbish! Get off the stage!” to which the Elvis impersonator replied “Thank you very much.  Goodnight”, and Hammy was immediately ejected from the cafe.  Walking around trying to get some clarity back as to what had gotten in to him, he walked in to a bar. 

The barman in this bar spoke constantly in an Elvis voice, so being a P.I, Hammy decided to question him.

“So why the Elvis impression?” Hammy opened with.  Followed by “I have to say, I don’t think you are that good…”

Stuffing a burger in to his mouth, the barman replied “Don’t criticize what you don’t understand, son. You never walked in this man’s shoes.”  (Yeah OK, I googled famous Elvis quotes.  Originally I typed it wrong and searched for famous Elves quotes.  But why on earth would I know quotes by Elvis anyway?)

Hammy asked him why he decided to become an Elvis barman.  The barman explained that he used to spend his time breeding hamsters, but as they are pretty good at doing that on their own without the need of his interaction he gave up.  Hammy was confused what kind of interaction he would need to breed hamsters and figured his surfing history could be a touch interesting…if not illegal in most countries.

After investigating a few more impersonators, he went home and reported back to his client.

“Sir.  My report on why I know Elvis ain’t dead.  It is obvious all the time people cannot accept that he ate so many burgers that his stomach exploded, and they hero worship him hoping he will come back in his spaceship, it is impossible that he can be dead.  Obviously he IS dead, but he just isn’t.”

“Thank you for your report.  Now, if I as bold as to ask you to do another job for me.  I need you to investigate my wife.  She has a lazy eye and dribbles a lot”  said the man.  “Sir, your wife has already approached me and I have already told her that I am not a mad cow investigator.  Good day to you” and Hammy walked out ready to search his next case.  A case of a man who thought he was in a position of great power like his Dad used to be, but was in fact a complete idiot.

 

Yeah. Not my best work.  Had a little writers block doing this on.  So.  I am out of words.  Does anyone wish to offer up any new ones?

A video post? Really? Is it funny?

I am not going to lie to you.  It isnt even a humour video.  Well, it is.  But it isn’t.  You know what I mean?

It is a video showing the difference between football players and rugby players.  Or overpaid pansies compared to how how a bloke should be.  And it explains my love of rugby and not so much of football. Anyway, it is 6 minutes long so if you are bored and have 6 minutes of your life you want to give up to a great video, here is your chance!  If it isn’t your kind of thing, I apologise for the inconvenience.  Normal service will resume.  One day.

 

The 100th post already? Really? Lets have a convention!

Actually, no.  This is the 101st post.  But I removed an old one as I got bored with removing spam from it.  But it was only the one saying it was my birthday so it didn’t really belong on the site, thus this is the true 100th post.  And next year if you forget my birthday…well…yeah. 

Should I do something “fun”, or something “Serious” or something completely different?  Or should I leave this as it is right now and press publish with no content at all?  I was actually going to write a story which contained the previous 99 post titles.  But then I looked at them.  Not a damn chance.

So what do we have?  Well, a short while ago, me and Jim had an email chat about what would happen if there was a blogging convention, and who would go to it.  It was broken down in to groups.  Here is the result of a couple of emails back and forth.  Don’t expect it to be nice about a lot of people.  We were on quite a roll with it: (I removed most of the swearing to make it in line with the usual posts, but a couple of bits had to stay.  Sorry!)

Once a year, on a set day which is one of a possible few (each country seems to have their own.  Nothing like the Internet making us all closer and one big community), we celebrate “Blog Day”.  Naturally, being that there are some millions of  bloggers out there, we can’t all go to one big room, so it is a “By Invitation Only” event.  There are a few classifications of bloggers, and set amounts of tickets are available for each group. Of course there would be free coffee and energy drinks.  The food of course would all be snack food that you could eat with one hand while typing with the other. At meal breaks they would serve real food but no one would get up to go eat or move their laptop to eat where they are.
 
The following are the allowed groups, along with a brief synopses of each group.  There are only so many tables available, and “blogger placement” is important.  There will also be speeches by each of the groups.
 
So who are the groups coming to Blog Oddity 2008? 
 
The “Picture Poster” group:  This is a group of bloggers who don’t have the cognitive ability to actually write anything but “look at how many hours I spend scouring the web for the pictures you can find on a thousand other sites.”  They all sit together posting each others pictures, half of which are of cats.  This is because a cat will give you so many sexy poses, and everyone loves a great cat picture.  Especially the one where it is sitting in the bath, or in a sink, such as the www.catsinsinks.comsite.  That’s right.  You can visit a site and choose both your next basin AND the type of cat you want all on one handy site. An ingenious idea, I trust you will agree.  It is highly likely that this group will want to go last so they can copy everyone else’s speech.  And mention a cat.
 
The “I think I am so funny” group:  This special bunch of wasted human flesh ignore every rule of being a good blogger and sit down and rip everyone and everything.  These cool cats get their own table dead center where they are talking to each other saying things like “Did you see this stupid site?”  They will spend the entire convention doing nothing but making fun of the rest of the bloggers, while talking about the fact they have all found a weird hair growing “down there” in the last few weeks.  Each member takes a turn at the podium pointing out the how lame everyone else is.  Then laugh uncontrollably when they become the targets of others rants. Having to hunt in packs, it is easy to take down one of these bloggers should they wander out alone at some point during the evening.  Their speech will be based around why they are funny and original and the other tables are crap.  No one will laugh except the people on their own table.   The rest of the tables will make the universal sign language motion for “w&%ker”.
 
The “2 Post Brigade” group:  This is a table for those “newbies” who have 2 whole posts on their blog (1 being a post about who they are and why this blog will be better then the rest) and are complaining they cannot give up work yet because the AdSense is just not paying off.  They will need to be kept in the corner of the room.  For the most part, any established bloggers in the room will try to pass on information and guides as to how to get more readers.  The 2PB’ers will not be interested and will spend the whole night talking about the way they know best and will plaster their sites with ads.  It is best to ignore this group.  The invite is only going out to them as they are sadly “the future”.  Most of these bloggers won’t be back next year as they will have got bored inside of 2 months when they are not getting 10000 hits a day.  Most of us want to hit them 10000 times a day.
 
While talking about the 2PB’ers, we also have the “Woohoo!  Made myself $1000 last month from ads!” group.  It is best to just throw them out to start with.  Give the 2PB’ers something to work with.  They will have made less then $0.10 and they only got that because they click the ad themselves at home and then at work to get unique IP hits.  They generally have a site telling you how to make money.  They all have the same content.  It is “Bloggers!  Plaster your site with ads!  Pop-ups, AdSense and Audible.  Content is not a problem, people will love you for your ads and need to earn money!”.  There is a large vat of boiling oil.  Feel free to “Dunk a Dork” at some point during the night.   They are not allowed to make a speech based on the fact the other tables are not allowed to bring weapons in to the venue to put them out of their misery.
 
The “main” table will be the “Be A Better Blogger” table.  Or the “Arsewits” should there full name take too long to say.  They have a set response to any request for information from other groups on there blog.  General conversation on this table can be shortened down to “Oh Hello.  Ctrl-C…Ctrl-V” and everyone on the table will laugh.  There is no In-Joke here, it is that they all say the same goddamn thing over and over and over and over and… They will also want to make a speech at the event.  It will not be done by 1 person on the table.  Instead they will all stand in unison and say exactly the same thing. No one will listen.  We have heard it a thousand times before.  Change the record for christ sake.
 
Talking of changing the record.  We need to have a word with those on table 14.  The “Panpipe” brigade.  What single part of your misfiring synapses has any reason to think we want to hear some shite like Cher’s greatest hits done to panpipes?  Hell, I don’t want to hear Cher. <– you should note the full stop and say that out loud when you read it.  But Panpipes???  And the auto loading panpipes on your site which seem to start playing full pelt at least 20 seconds before the player window draws, so potential site readers end up with severe vomiting from hearing Cher’s Do you believe in life after love. It is likely that this group will be removed from the event by every other group there.  If not, they will be subjected to a musical selection of our choice which they hate.  The “off button” for the music on their table is located in a pit of hungry poisonous snakes on the table next to them.
 
It would be wrong to not mention the “Good Guys”.  People like you and me.  Who just want to write a blog, get readers, not plaster ads everywhere and enjoy the experience.  Come sit on our table people.  The fun starts here.  Lets just chill out, make s’mores and put the world to rights!  Now.  Where is the beer?

A table of Sci/fi freaks to include but not limited to fans of the following Firefly, Star Wars, Star Trek, Stargate SG1, Babylon 5, Battle Star Galactica, Isaac Asimov and others.  As they step up to the podium each one spends 3 hours explaining why their Sci/fi obsession is better than the rest complete with a power point presentation pointing out scientific flaws of all other Sci/fi and omitting any scientific errors from their favorite. 

One table would have both religious bloggers and atheists together just for fun.  There could be blood shed at this table as the atheists continually insult and laugh at the believers.  The believers at some point will invoke a crusade, jihad, and an exorcism all at once.  The different faiths will come together to take down a common enemy.  Those poor buggers never stood a chance.  
 
It is also worth noting that there are people who are in no way invited to the event.  Any worthless Chunk o’ Crap socialite with a name like a city in Western Europe is automatically banned.  Should one turn up, remember there is a large vat of boiling oil.  I do not recommend eating a Deep Fried Paris bar though.  You can still catch something very nasty from a not fully cooked socialite bar.  Others include any other A, B, C, D…Z list celebrities that think we have any urge in the world to listen to them or give them some “Celeb Love”.  You aren’t important.  In fact, there are some VERY good blogs out there that have a sole aim to rip you apart. 
 
So there you have it.  I am sure you will agree that this is an event not to be missed! 

Well.  As you can see, that was different.  A little contraversial. A little honest and a lot of fun to write. 

Coming in the 101st post:  I haven’t got a scooby.  I haven’t even thought about it!  I am about to start 2 weeks of complete an utter decoration.  I plan to get the whole house done in the 2 weeks so I may not be about after tomorrow for a while.  Or I might be.  That’s the crazy thing isn’t it.  You won’t know until I do it!  Oh, and in other news, if I was to start a weekly email with some other stuff (content not yet decided) in it, would you subscribe?  No?  Thanks…

 

You were searching for what? The Rose edition.

Ah yes.  It must be Saturday, which can mean a lot of things.  But today, it means I shall write the next installment of “You were searching for what?”.  Unlike other times when it was done on search terms that found my site, this time I have spiced it up a little.  I have covered it in rock salt, wrapped it in tin foil and stuck it in the oven until cooked. 

And what came out of the oven?  The search terms that make people find the site done by my esteemed bloggy friend Rose.  Yup.  Rose was kind enough to send me over some of her tasty search results for me to abuse in the way I abuse my search results!  I have to say, I wasn’t expecting some of them to have found her site!  As before, the words in the ” ” are the words that were the search result.  The others are added in because I can.

So without further ado, I present you with “You were searching for what?  The Rose edition”:

Dear Sy: “What u look like with blonde hair?

Uncle Sy says: I have been told I look like that blonde muppet.  What is her name?  I cant remember.  Either way, it sucks coz I am a bloke.   And one day I will be a silver fox.

Dear Sy: I have 4 words.  “Baggy pants in the hood.  Why?”

Uncle Sy says:  That’s 5 words doofus.  But yes.  An interesting question.  I believe it is to do with the fact that they are shy of visiting the toilet, so the quite voluminous trousers they wear are designed to hold in all the crap.  This includes verbal.  They have a built in febreeze container too, thus hiding the smell.

Dear Sy: What do you do when “approaching for casual sex”?

Uncle Sy says: Me?  Normally I walk up to the person and say “Alright sweetcheeks.  Looking for some action?”.  Another phrase I use is “Hey wifey, wanna get jiggy with it?  I have a lil sumfing for you”.  I have found neither of these work.  I would suggest asking your sister.  Not for the sex obviously…

Dear Sy: “When I am old I am going to have” a pair of sunglasses that look like a banana.

Uncle Sy says: Don’t bother.  I have some already.   I am the king of cool.  You will look stupid.  If anyone can pull off having a banana on their face it is me.  So I suggest you get your own look.  Freak.

Dear Sy: Can you help me?  I want to know “how to look beautiful in an ugly dress” thanks.  Love, Lindsay Lohan.

Uncle Sy says: Look.  Anyone can pull off an ugly dress as long as they aren’t an ugly annoying wannabe princess who thinks they are too important in life.  As long as you aren’t one of them, you will be fine.  Oh.  I just checked your name.  Your screwed.  Give up now.  For the rest of you though, I suggest a big beaming black tooth smile and ridiculous hair.  It takes the focus away from the dress.

Dear Sy: Can you tell me “how to have sex with a vacuum cleaner”?

Uncle Sy says: Of course!  I recommend NEVER using the low power ones.  It wont work for you at all.  Instead, what you do is get the highest powered vacuum you can find, then stick the little dude in there, then tape on the attachment in case it comes off and THEN power it on.  It’ll make you so happy that you will cry.  Do let us know which hospital to send the flowers.

Dear Sy: “How long until bimbo dollars come through”?

Uncle Sy says: OH! OH!  You use that too huh!  Oh yeah, I got mine in like I dunno, like, yeah it was like umm totally like 3 weeks and like I totally spent them on some awesome like great stuff right?  Yeah it was like soooooo cool.  Whats your nick?  We can totally go have lunch or something like yeah?

Dear Sy: I am worried.  “How long does my ipod have left to live”?

Uncle Sy says: Well Jimmy.  I would be worried.  I looked at the X-Ray this morning and couldn’t even see a heart in it.  I am pretty sure it is already dead and has returned zombified.  Chances are the next time you put the earphones in your ears, it will suck out your brains through the earphones and move on to the next sap asking ridiculous questions about electronic equipment.  Good luck though.  But if you are gonna do it, don’t go out listening to Cher or something.  Can I recommend “Go to hell” by Megadeth?

Dear Sy: “is she bored with me?”

Uncle Sy says: I know I am.  Go away.

Dear Sy: I heard a rumour.  “Is Paris Hilton dead?”

Uncle Sy says: Oh stop it.  Don’t tease me with exciting things like that.  I checked and unfortunately there is some very sad news.  She is still alive.  But if we both pray harder, I am pretty sure we can make this happen!  Help me jeeeebus.

Dear Sy: “Is it true sex gets rid of headaches?”

Uncle Sy says: I have been telling my wife it does for a long time.  Her answer is always the same.  That she enjoys the headache as it lasts longer, and at least she feels it.  It hurts when she says things like that. 

Dear Sy: “Is cooked penis served at Chinese restaurant in China?”

Uncle Sy says: If you feel the need to insert a penis in your mouth, cooked or uncooked, you don’t have to go to China.  Your parents will be fine with it OK?  Come on.  Let me open the door and you climb out of the closet.  Good boy. 

Dear Sy: “Is it OK to give a friend a rose?”

Uncle Sy says:  It depends on how you look at it.  Giving your friend a punch in the chops is a lot more frowned upon.  Therefore, I suggest punching your friend, and then giving them a rose.  It covers all eventualities and the chances are they wont be your “friend” anymore and you can then try and woo them.

Dear Sy: “When a women is sexing more then one man is she a hoe”?

Uncle Sy says:  There is nothing wrong with using correct grammar you know.  When a women?  But I find your question interesting.  For instance, I never thought of using a woman who sleeps with multiple men as a tool for sorting my garden out.  Or is this one of those “For your punishment, you will go play in the plantbed and not my friends bed” situations?  Personally I think your an idiot and that it makes sense that she is cheating on you.  Now.  Go cut the grass like a good little loser.

Dear Sy:  “what was the website called where you can play a game that aloows you to get boob implants and sugar daddies”?

Uncle Sy says:  I was confused about this one and then I realised.  You mean the Monopoly: Gummy Bears edition don’t you?  Yup, those sugary bears do taste sweet!  Oh, and men shouldn’t get implants, so I suggest going for the full op rather then just the implants OK?

Dear Sy:  “Why do dogs suck toys and stuffed animals”?

Uncle Sy says:  Are you saying you don’t?  There is no pleasure more then sticking Bobby the Bear in your mouth and giving him a good long suck.  Oh.  Ummm… hey, I should probably stop this one now.  But I jest.  In reality, you should just realise that they do this for the same reason they lick their nuts.  Because they can, and it is not frowned upon.  Of course, if I was to do that in public, rather then point and laugh, people would be disgusted.  That’s the problem with the world isn’t it. 

 

It seems like a load of balls to me.

Young Don over at…erm…some site he does, gave me the following to work with for a story.  “rhododendron”, “tarn”, “osteopath” and the phrase “Go for it big boy!”. Although I am not sure if the phrase was him giving me a phrase to work with, or he has heard the rumours about me putting on weight.  Who knows.  But hey, lets put it in here anyway!

Don has a habit of using his company called DonCo in to his posts.  I was thinking of stealing this idea, but having a company called SyCo would maybe not get me the business I would like.  DonCo also has a flashy office, whereas I have a bowl of Smash.  But I have aspirations!  Actually, no I don’t.  But good luck with that Don.  Anyway, I recommend going to his site once a year, glancing over it and then leaving a comment saying that this site is better.  Yeah, I know I said that line in the post about saying you should go to his site, but I mean it.  Tell everyone this site is better!  Please?  Everyone lies you know!

So anyway.  The story.  I should probably do that hey?  Here we go:

Once upon a time, there was a young yarn seller called Don.  His balls of yarn were the biggest and best in the land, and people enjoyed using them to make nice Christmas jumpers with a big green tree on it, or for making strange woolly hats with those weird floppy bits on to keep your ears warm.

All the other yarn sellers were jealous of Don’s impressive balls and all got together in a room, and decided the best way to take business away from Don would be to taint his name and put there balls on parade in a big show.  The problem they had was that Don was a pure ball grower whereas the others all had other jobs.  These included:

“Rhododendron” Rod Rabbit – A keen florist who loved to show off his rhododendron table decorations, and would often stick his balls on as a centerpiece.  People found this a little disconcerting as they had paid for flowers, but often got a ball of yarn included.

Dr “Prod me, Poke me” Fe L. Init.  A young Chinese osteopath who would often make people squeeze his balls of yarn while he was treating them.  This often ended in a comforting feeling while Dr Fe squeezed their head working on a way to cure there RSI.

And finally a Fisherman called “Salty” Fred Kipper.  Fred was a fisherman who fished the tarn’s of the area but had found his catch of the day, the TarnBuckle, was becoming short in supply.

It was nearly time for the Yarn-a-thon.  The bi-yearly event where the yarn makers would show off their balls and have competitions.

In the days leading up to the event, the trio arranged elaborate events to make Don’s balls look less impressive.  Knowing that Don carried his prized balls everywhere he went, they had to find a way to discredit his abilities.

Dr Fe L. Init wrote a case study with constant references to Don and his various issues which could mean his balls of yarn could be sub-standard.  Rhododendron Rod sent Don’s friends flowers with messages on the card about worrying his balls wouldn’t work come Yarn-a-thon because he wasn’t up to scratch.  But the worst was “Salty” Fred, who took Don on a fishing trip to the tarn, and systematically dipped Don’s balls in the tarn water, thus rendering them useless while Don was not looking.

Come the day of the event, Dr Fe used his best osteopath techniques on the female judges.  Rod Rabbit brought flower displays for the judges – a rhododendron centrepiece with daisies circling it.  Salty Fred offered Tarn trips to the judges and free use of his boat for 1 weekend a year.

And then in walked Don.  Don did not try to bribe the judges.  Instead he stood there with the light shining behind him making him a spooky silhouette grasping hold of his balls.  These were not the tainted balls.  It seemed that Don had more balls then the others originally realised.  He had a sack full of quality balls actually.  Don sneered at the other contestants who had tried to sabotage his efforts.  Looking at “Salty” Fred in the eyes at the start of the contest, he says “Go for it big boy” as he realises he is paired with him in the contest.  And the contest began.  There were tests of endurance, Don showing his balls could fly through the air much longer then Fred’s lesser impressive balls.  After the test were done, it was the judges turn to look at all of their balls.

The judges prodded, squeezed and inspected all of the contestants balls.  Checking for sweater making ability, and overall strength.

Don’s balls won the contest by a mile.

The other contestants admitted defeat, and Don was handed the “Yarn-a-thon Balls of Steel” trophy.

The end.

 

Well.  That was an innuendo filled funfest wasn’t it.

The beginning of the end…

Pull up a chair.  Lets have a chat about about some stuff.  How have you been?  Really?  Was it fun?  And how are the kids?  The rest of the family?  And the animals?  Thats good to hear.

Well, I think that covers the pleasentries.

I have been busy.  Work is taking up a lot of time at the moment.  I used to write most of my posts while at work because it could be amazingly quiet so I could concentrate and write the posts.  That has changed and now the occassional shift can be quiet rather then the occassional shift can be busy.  And the site is being very much affected by it.  I read back through some posts last night and realised that the older stuff was much better.  Part of this is because I wanted to do a post a day, but this is no longer attainable with my current home and work life.   I am also thinking of writing some other stuff on the side which is something I am thinking of focussing on.  But I am not sure yet how that will pan out, or if I will do it.

I also wanted this site to be fairly interactive and to be a community of sorts, thus the asking for words for stories, and trying to make sure I replied to every single comment, build online friendships with my readers etc.  But I just don’t have the time to advertise the site like I need to in order for more readers to come like I used to, and the number of readers has not increased for a while.  Which is something that obviously I wanted to happen.

So I am wondering where to take the site moving forward.    The answer? 

I don’t know for sure.

So if anyone has any ideas, don’t be shy.   

This is what I do know. The posts are to become far less frequent.  In some instances once every 10 days at the very most because of my shift pattern.  I will have to accept I cant bring new readers in and hope the power of google and stumble will maybe increase it over time. 

But there is also the more serious side of all this which is:

I want to spend more time with my wife.  When she is awake, I want to spend the time with her.  This means on the days when we are both home and I am not on shift, I will be in bed early and getting up early to change my sleeping pattern to meet hers rather then spend up until 3am doing a post and then sleeping in and missing half the day I could have spent with her.  Why?  Well, as you know, in around 3 months there will be 3 of us in the family.   So I want that time with my wife doing “couple” things before our daughter arrives and we are no longer a couple, but a family with a small person throwing up down my neck.  Personally, I think I should have done it a good few months ago.  Hindsite is a great thing, but I dont believe in kicking myself for “what I should have done”.  Look forward and make the change.  You cannot change the past, but can make the future.

So that is me.  I have by no means gone.  Some weeks I may end up posting loads because work is quiet.  Or that I have been kicked out of the marital bed because I am chucking out heat like there is no tomorrow and she cant sleep.  But I just know that things will be very different for a while.

Wish me luck.  The real world is a scary place.

A random array of inexplicable crap

Starey starey stare.  Staring at the screen at 4am in the morning with my iPod, my phone and some Vaseline.  Don’t ask why I have an ipod please.  As I sit here I find myself wondering “Hmmm.  What shall I write about”.  I mean, there is a fat hedgehog in the news which is on a diet, but I am not in hedgehog mood.  What is happening to the Fruitarian war?  I dunno.  I can’t be bothered to write about it at the moment. Then there is the story that some muslim clerics or something are saying we should all change to Mecca Time instead of GMT.  But I wont write about that as I will just get annoyed.  Part 4 of the search engine stuff?  Well I could, but the ones I left out are from people searching for stuff which is frankly wrong.  One bordered on animal abuse in a sexual nature.  So no.  Not going to write about that, and one of the “Cheeky Girls” is marrying an MP.  My giddy god it’s a slow news night.

On the TV is some utter rubbish, but then, it is 4am.  Of course, what was I really expecting to be on!  Actually, as a sidenote on that, did you know that deaf people only watch TV during the night?  Yeah, I didn’t know that.  It seems being deaf makes you an insomniac or something.  I say this because every show has sign language on as standard.  So I have music on in just one ear on the off chance that the phone rings and I have to do work.  My iPod is currently playing Alanis Morissette. 

Oh Shush.  I like it.  And it is just a couple of songs and I will move on to something else.  OK?  Good.

So I need to change the music as her angst filled lullabies are not conducive to writing a post.  Plus, why does she have one hand in her pocket?  Is she surfing the net I wonder… It would explain the other hand now holding a cigarette I guess.

Work tonight has been spookily quiet.  Some things disconnected but reconnected.  Some things went blue when they should be green but I made them go back green.  I made sure that when the workers of this company come in to work in a few hours time, any fun sites they could get to before are no longer there but are replaced by a big blockage sign.

And there I am.  That is my current situation.  Sat in a dark room with 14 plasma screens showing stuff which is currently all good.  And I still don’t know what to put in this post so I am changing the music.  I now have Avenged Sevenfold on.  Yeah, this is just not really changing anything.  And I only have a few hours before I go home.  My colleague is watching something on YouTube.  Glancing over it looks like cricket highlights.

And I still haven’t written this damn post.  In fact, this could well be the longest post in the world about not knowing what to put in a post! 

Do you see what I go through to try to (albeit poorly) entertain you?

Actually, lets just write some more rubbish:

Once upon a time was a devilishly handsome rogue called Sy.  Sy wasn’t your typical man.  He had super powers.  His super power was the power of talking complete rubbish allll the time. 

As with all superhero’s he had a nemesis.  His nemesis was called Serio.  Serio had a super power of talking about serious things 24 hour hours a day.  Sy hated Serio, and Serio hated Sy.  This is because they were both fighting for the affections of Weirio. 

Weirio had long hair, blue eyes and was very pretty.  She stood at about 5ft tall and had a strange accent.  She was also a little weird. 

Weirio had no interest in Serio.  She only had eyes for Sy because of his devilishly roguish good looks.

Serio was livid and kidnapped Weirio and put her on the top of a big building and told Sy to come and get her.  Sy accepted the challenge and came to save weirio.  An epic battle broke out between Sy and Serio.

“You are a stinky poopie head!”  Sy opened the battle with.

“The paranoiac is the exact image of the ruler. The only difference is their position in the world. One might even think the paranoiac the more impressive of the two because he is sufficient unto himself and cannot be shaken by failure. ”  Serio threw at Sy

“yeah?  Well you smell like an old person who is on a diet of cabbage!” Sy retaliated with.

And then Serio thre the ultimate attack in his arsenal of words.

“There is no dignity quite so impressive, and no one independence quite so important, as living within your means.”  

Living within his means was something Sy could not do.  It was his biggest weak point.  He collapsed clutching his chest.  Serio continued his attack:

“It’s far more impressive when others discover your good qualities without your help.”

Sy, reaching out with one last attack cried out:

“Do wah diddy diddy dum diddy doooooooooooooooo……………………..”

Serio crumbled under the pressure, falling to his knees crying.  Sy gaining his strength continues his journey and saves Weirio.  Weirio, not that interesed in Sy, moved on and got together with Aweseomo.  Sy took a pottery making course and Serio studied for a diploma in stupidness.  He failed.

The end.

What?  You were expecting something good out of this post? 

Once more with feeling.

I feel like it has only been 9 days since I did this last, but I can’t help it.  It is free material.  Unlike the other material I do, which is also free.  Anyway, I am not sure where I was going with that.

Once again, I tender for your approval the next batch of “You were searching for what?”.  Same rules apply.  The words inside of these ” ” have found my site by using Google.

Dear Sy: What is a “sexy thing to do a lover”

Uncle Sy Says: Well, with me and my wife, it is about roleplay.  I dress up as catwoman, and she dresses up as mighty mouse.  Passion?  You wont know anything like it.

Dear Sy: “damn she said happy birthday before me comments”

Uncle Sy Says: That line doesn’t even make sense.  Maybe that is why she said it before you.  Because you sound stupid.

Dear Sy: Is there anything I should “inject in my behind”?

Uncle Sy Says: Yes.  full fat milk.  And melted chocolate.  And then play that funky music white boy.  It’ll be the best milkshake you ever had.

Dear Sy: I think my “hamsters storing poop”

Uncle Sy Says: I think you need to start cleaning the cage a little.  Don’t you?  You sound really lazy, and not overly intelligent.  Did you think they are going to clean themselves?  Dear me.

Dear Sy: I heard that you write “gorgeous sexy stories”?

Uncle Sy Says: I can’t lie to you.  Yes, I am great.  I will write one for you is you give me 4 random words which include shampoo, bloated, lingerie and carrot.

Dear Sy: “why does my man get the toilet so messy”?

Uncle Sy Says: Because you smell of broccoli.  You sort that out, he will sort the toilet out.  Comprende nooney nooney?

Dear Sy: I have really “foxy legs”!

Uncle Sy Says: Interesting.  My best feature is my elephant ears.  I can hear for miles!  I am not gonna lie to you though.  I wish I had a trunk.

Dear Sy: “what do u call the thing that a hamster runs on”?

Uncle Sy Says: I call them legs and paws. 

Dear Sy: “is your hamster dead if it is stiff but warm”?

Uncle Sy Says: Dead?  That is when I am spot on ready to….ohh…HAMSTER.  Yeah.  Ummm.  Sorry, I am in a very different place at the moment.

Dear Sy: Can you tell me “how i train toilet slave”?

Uncle Sy Says: How old is your slave?  And where has your slave been living?  You know what, just accept that you are going to get it in adult nappies and you are going to have to clean up the mess.

Dear Sy: Are you going to put up any “hooverporn” on the site?

Uncle Sy Says: No.  Not in the foreseeable future.  I am thinking of putting up some foodmixer porn though.  If that is your thing, you will be best to come back soon.  It’s gonna be explosive!

Dear Sy: Can you tell me “how to hump your wife”?

Uncle Sy Says: No.  She is my wife.  The only humping to be done to my wife will be done by the milkman.  Understand?  OK.  Now don’t come back.

Dear Sy: Is it wrong that “he had me pose in dresses”?

Uncle Sy Says: Well Steven.  I think you need to ask yourself if you felt used by him making you do that.  If it was a sexy black off the shoulder number, that is fully acceptable though.  When I wear dresses for my wife, I love the feel of the soft silk against my..oh.  Out of space for this reply.  Sorry.

Dear Sy: “did your hamster come back”

Uncle Sy Says: My hamster left?  Hammy?  Are you there?  Please answer me…. HAAAAAAMMMYYYYYY!!!!!

Dear Sy: I am thinking of writing “a book about a hamster but could really happen”

Uncle Sy Says: That sounds fantastic.   Can I suggest making up a story about it running on a wheel or something.  Coz ya know, it could happen!