David Attenborough…
…has been on, apparently he has never seen a fish bubbling “Bartholomew” either. But it got me to thinking, if he wanted to see REALLY wild animals, why didn’t he go to Sri Lanka. There he could have watched Guerillas & Tigers.
But it’s still raining. Even after my best efforts. In ancient American-Indian tradition I have sung and danced my way through at least four playstation Sing Star discs, whilst my tribe watched approvingly. (Incidentally, The neighbours were banging on the wall and threatening to call the Police. I THOUGHT they were calling FOR the Police, and so I exploded into an impromtu “Every Breath You Take”, but it just seemed to make them hysterical. They must be jealous of my rich baritone/soprano.) Actually I am proud to divulge that my voice has been likened to the sound made by a slipping fan belt on a 1963 Massey Ferguson tractor, or that of a live Hyaena being peeled. High praise indeed. But despite all of this, the rain keeps on. Funnily enough, the rain isn’t really the problem, its the blessed clouds that always seem to come with it. Tutt! Sitting here with this telescope all polished and mounted and bursting with desire to strut its stuff, and it has nowhere to go. Like a wannabe prom queen without a date.
Last week I was visited by the Vodka fairy. She’s not a pretty sight, with her moustache, overalls, and size 13 boots, but she was kind enough to leave under my pillow a copious quantity of Russians Ruin. Thanks to her, at least i’ll be seeing SOME stars tonight. Thanks Dave. Hic.
