With four pages to fill for the Signed and Sent version of SimpleQuest, I wrote a quick introductory adventure. My Demon of Self Doubt immediately told me it was crap and pointless. To which a more positive voice shouted back,
“SHUT UP! IT’S GOT A GOBLIN CALLED RINGO IN IT!!!” 😀
In my second year of Leeds Uni, I knicked a life-sized cardboard cut out of Mr Bean in a Karate suit from outside Barclays Bank during freshers’ week. He stood in my 2nd-floor bedroom window, often on guard duty with the curtains open as an anti-burglar deterrent when we went out.
Years later, we visited York Castle Museum and looked around their History of Everyday Life. I was quite tickled that the Edwardians put life-sized cutouts in their front windows when they went out for the same reason.
So I went to Angrytown this morning and brought Mr Angry Newt home with me. He was great pain in the ass while he was here. Shouting, scaring everyone, simmering with resentment, and being an all-around grumpy sod. Logical reasoning wouldn’t make him go away.
Until I realised even Angry Newts just need an open forgiving heart, and to be hugged in warm unconditional love. Then it turns out they will go meekly away mumbling sorry 😀
A Heroic Tale for these Covid-19 Times
Truly was it epic!
Socially distanced queuing, nearly failing at the last administrative hurdle, being stabbed in my non-writing arm, and then recovering in a room with a grumpy woman looking on. Returning to the family chariot, to find that we had a flat battery!
While we waited for the sorcerer from the AA, I and Evelyn-Rose went on a sub-quest to relieve the bladders! Percy the Pig was rescued from Marks and Spensers. I had a triangle of spicy delight to regain my strength. Then hurrah the sorcerer is here and has breathed electrical life into the chariot! Homewards with Maccy Ds for tea!
[Update: This is a slightly codified post since obviously, this was me getting my first Covid-19 Vaccination because I’m overweight middle-aged and a family member of a NHS Worker, my wife. I didn’t make that clear at the time, because I thought it would be insensitive to the vast swathe of my friends who hadn’t had their jab at the time.]
“Only after weeks had passed did I begin to think that I had, rather absent-mindedly, passed through what mystics call “the dark night of the soul” or “crossing the abyss.”
Whatever one calls it, I reached a depth of despair and deliberately decided to love the world instead of pitying myself; and, afterwards, I was no longer afraid of anything.”
Why is Boxing Day called that? Is it after some obscure tradition where we donned boxing gloves and had at our neighbours (under the Queensberry Rules of course)?
Well I’m renaming it Slackmas, after the fact that I have to do feck all today, except work out which leftovers to fed the family, load the dishwasher (and to be fair that could become a new tradition of “Dad doesn’t load the dishwasher today, who can I trick into doing it?”), drink more booze, and decide which Action Movie to watch to give me the illusion of physical exercise.
So happy Slackmas yah little tiddlers.
All hail BOB!
I’m like listening to Slayyyyyer. Very few people know that Raining Blood is the tale of a visit to Santa’s Grotto gone wrong 😀
Aliens is the classic Christmas Film, not Die Hard as some people have erroneously
Hidden in the subliminal Occult Layer (only properly exposed in the 5:1 surround sound Blu-ray release) of the film, it’s a modern critique of the futility of the Christian Christmas (as symbolically represented by the Marines – each of whom are an analogy of the different sects of that religion) faced with the merciless onslaught of Consumerism (the Aliens) and need to return to ancient pre-flood Midwinter celebrations (where it was Pyramids not Trees that were erected OUTSIDE the house for obvious reasons) via the vector of BIG FUCKING GUNS! 😛
Well back in 1079, there was this visitor to the little village of Leeds called Jack Pumpkin Head. No one knew where he come from, but there he was one day, demanding a fresh loaf of bread and a brace of Bury Black puddings a day from poor idiotic folk of those parts. If he failed to get this humble fare, he would take himself down the pub and with burning eyes and gnashing teeth kill any Norman ee did find there supping Titleys Ale.
King William was right alarmed and ordered the Scouring of the North to kill the Orange Headed one. But all the fire and slaughter inflicted by robber Norman Knights failed to kill old Jack, so King William was forced to leave his comfy seat down south in the Tower of London meet the oranged headed fiend in single combat. Lo on Ilkey Moor the two heroes met, and after a bloody combat, with much leaping about as to make John Woo most proud, King William did chop of Jack’s Pumpkin Head clean off.
Because he was right cross about having to come up from his comfy seat down south to the cold rainy Noff, he picked up Jack’s head and carved the words “Fuck off, ye be dead, I hate Titleys” on the soft squidgy orange head. Then he stormed off back down south, were the weather was nicer, where they had lovely sweet wine and big fook off castles to keep Saxons out!
The people never forgot King William’s victory over demon Pumpkin Headed Jack and if they were rich , or had a Morrisons nearby, would annually buy a pumpkin to carve into the visage of the terrible Jack with his burning eyes and gnashing teeth in the hope that Jack would come back to earth and deal with the Normans, now called Tories. (well you did ask 🙂 )
