Wednesday 29 April 2009

Why cars and arses are linked, the toils of travel, why I got farted on, and other such excremental rubbish.

Let's talk laziness, and here's why: my mother, 50, F, GSOH, PITA, BREAD ROLL, Walsall, wanted to know if she could possibly borrow my computer in order to change a few things round on some report bla bla bla zzzz. She was in her room, and I was in mine (watching Shameless and talking to @thesophie on'tinternet). Now, we don't live in a big house. We haven't got seven bedrooms, 50 acres of bedroom space, and room for a pony and a field of grazing cattle in each. I would guess that from my mum's room to my room is about five steps. So we might all agree that the best way to ask me for this favour would be to toddle over to my room and ask in person. Ha! Always think outside of the box; especially if you're feeling particularly lazy or you've suddenly lost the use of your legs in a freak accident. My mother, in fact, chose to ring me! From HER mobile, to MY mobile. When I picked up, I could HEAR HER TALKING from her room. I blame this on the inventor of the car. That sorry day was the day most of us forgot how to walk.

Naturally I wouldn't let mum borrow my laptop unless she came to collect it personally. As if I was going to get up and walk to her room! She has yet to drop by and collect it.

Talking of getting off your arse, my cousin keeps going on about wanting to go to Africa and help the needy. Fair play to her - we'll probably all die from swine flu while she's gone, so essentially she'll be saving herself. I suppose not even swine flu could survive some of the awful diseases running rampant in the third world, so she's safe. Unless she contracts Malaria or Cholera or something equally horrific and as such, ironic. Yet, a bit nostalgic too. "You're a sodding psychopath," I hear you say. Well, I might be, but don't tell me you don't get the impression sometimes that life was better in the past, when people used to shit in the streets, and there was a new disease in vogue every other day. Even if you could die of the plague, have your leg chopped of sans anaesthetic, and, perhaps a little later in the timeline, run into Hitler casually slaughtering millions. (I'm really following a pattern with these here blogs. All I've got to do is mention 'sadist' against and I'm laughing.) Sadist.

Anyway, yes, travel. I wouldn't say I haven't travelled much per se. Instead, I might say: 'I haven't travelled'. Unless you constitute returning to Cyprus almost every summer, going to Ireland, Scotland, Germany on a school trip, and driving through France and Belgium to get to said Germany as extensive travelling. Ooh, mustn't forget Wales. I've been there and all. But I've spent my time doing other things so HA! Flutter thee away like an annoying moth before you suicidally run into a light bulb and DIE. For instance, every so often I like to go on road trips in my car. And there was that time when I was upholstered onto an 8 piece, dining room, chair set for a year. Although, to be frank, it was quite lonely and I got farted on far too much. People just don't have table manners any more.

Things aren't what they were...

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