Late, punish me

Welcome back to that little slice of Alan you all so depressingly need. I am like a heroin addiction, you can go off me for years, but just one moment with me sends you back into the thralls of my life. Obviously I would use this power to fight crime but I cannot see how to apply it.

meh, oh well,

So I am going to recount a little tidbit what living with my current flatmates is like. Now, before I do, I am aware that this means I am in for at least three (that I know of) people, my mother, my sister and B, who will tell me to move, confront them, etc...so since I already know what you are going to say, can we avoid it?

So, some of the twits had over their friends from out of town. I had no problem with this, I had gone to bed as they were all falling out the door into their cabs. Of course, I was woken up by one of them cackling my name coming up the stairs sometime after two. But then it sounded like she fell and hurt herself so that shut her up. But no, the annoying thing was the following morning, when I wandered into the living room, to find what must have been a pizza, half strewn over the TV. From what I can discern, someone place it on top of the digital telly box (You know, the one BESIDE THE TABLE!). It fell down over the screen and onto the floor. Now whether they ate it afterwards, I have not chosen to ask. But it appears that while they picked up the pizza itself, they chose not to clean it up. SO for following morning, afternoon and the evening(when they finally did clean it) there was stamped in tomato on the rug, from where they trod on it the evening before. It was even all over the TV screen!!! and they sat at watched telly all day!! What lazy b*&%hes.
AND VOILA, Dunvegan Castle. On the Isle of Skye....hello? read my last blog, sheesh.And my dear sister. Point of fact, it was not that wet. humph...over-actor.

And the MacLeod family church (They attend a new one alright). For the first time I quite enjoyed walking around graveyard, reading the graves. I cannot recall for sure, but I believe there was one chap who managed to have three wives, all buried next to him. The old Scottish resiliency, I hope I inherited some of that. And...what...Bowles?!? What are you doing here?

aha, well, perhaps that is not so funny. So, I went to a lovely party this past weekend. I would say it was quite excellent, but a little tip for all the foreigners, quite means average, it is less than very over here. Also, do not ask for two of something and then show the clerk two upraised fingers, as my mother has done all throughout Europe. It means the same as giving the middle finger. But at this party, being from Canada, inevitably our baby seal hunting practices came up. I used to try and explain that it was to keep the fish stocks up which the Europeans feast upon. Now, I am to the point where I basically tell everyone, that is all we do in Canada. Murder baby seals. Roll out of bed in the morning...onto a baby seal. Back the car up...over a baby seal. Go to the baseball field and crack...some baby seals. But, I have come up with a fantastic new way to keep seal hunting awareness up. Let us use it as a description of a faux pas. For instance, if someone says there is an elephant in the room, there is a huge subject that no one is willing to broach. For mine, it will go like this...

Say, a formal dress party was planned, and one person showed up, in jeans and a t-shirt...well...he just clubbed a baby seal. or someone leaves the toilet seat up and a lady wanders out of the loo with a wet bum "OK! WHO JUST CLUBBED A BABY SEAL AND LEFT THE SEAT UP!".....see, brilliant.

Well, this is getting quite lengthy, in reply to the questions about Quackless. I purchased him in Edinburgh. I believe he is the ironic representation of the popular cutural myth of the rubber duck, by being deceased. And I named him Quackless as I believe no one in the whole world has EVER named a dead duck, rubber or otherwise. So my novel name is the first and finest. Any other questions?

Another update next weekend (Or, maybe one day late). And here is a question. Is blog now a verb. I mean, have I just blogged?

Clicking off,

A B