Wednesday, February 13, 2008

FREEZE FRAME

Back in December of 1831, I was watching TV with my best friend Charlie Darwin, when out of the blue, he says


"I say Old Sport, I'm off to the Go Gos (Galapagos) to prove that Johnny Lamarck is a complete arse! Care to join me?"


To which I replied,"Meh, whatever..pass the chips. I should think that fumbling about that bloody pile of rocks in the middle of bloody nowhere with those ghastly Iguanas snorting salt out of their nostrils would be impossibly tedious?

Quite frankly I'd rather have needles poked in my eyes!"


He then slyly remarked,
"Really? I've asked Penelope to my Ornithologist on the Expedition.
Care to reconsider?"


"Penelope Pinkbitz?"


He knew damn well that I was madly in love with Pinkbitz. She was as beautiful as she was brilliant and I lovingly referred to her as my Darling Hornythologist.

"Alighty then, I suppose that I shall be your Ichthyologist.
I shall start packing as soon as we finish watching Season 3 of Arrested Devlopment!"


So off we went to the Go Gos and for Peneolpe and myself it was Paradise. However, it soon became apparent to Charlie, that Penelope and I were spending far too much time in flagrante delict-ooooh! and were remiss in our scientificky duties.

We were studying reproduction alright...
wherever and whenever we could!


Unfortunately poor Charlie had had enough. Since the crew had lived on Finch and Chimps for almost five years he suggested that the two of us go fishing together so that we could dine on a feast of Lobster before we departed.

I held Penelope in my arms and gently whispered,
"See you later Sweet Potater!"
I had no idea that this would be the last time that I would hold Pinkbitz in my arms.

Charlie and I then spent a brilliant afternoon collecting Lobster and despite his nattering about my acting like a "bloooody mink on amphetamines",

we patched up our friendship and were just heading in to shore when a statistically improbable incident occured.

A huge bloody White rammed our boat and I was thrown into the mercy of the Deep Blue Sea.

Charlie's last words to me were,
"Sit down you bloody fool!"


What happened from this point forward is almost too fantastical to believe..but from what I have pieced together..

Apparently I drifted South to Antarctica whilst propped upon remnants of the boat and was subsequently washed ashore.
My brain was preserved because it had been quickly frozen in the icy water.

There I remained until 1907 when a drunken Sailor out taking a whizz noticed that my head had been exposed and that Blue Footed Boobies were making a nest in my beard..


Boobies always reminds me of Penelope (sigh).

Where was I? Oh Yes.
My head was chipped out of my icy tomb, lazy bastards, unceremoniously tossed into the ship's hold with all of the frozen fish, and carted off to the Colonies.

I was sold to the Smithsonian and there I remained until 1966 when my still frozen head was purchased by a Cryogenics firm in California.

I had the unbelievable misfortune to be preserved next to the Clinic's most recent customer. Walt Disney.

For three months I heard him humming It's a Small World.
You cannot possibly imagine how annoying that was.


Hm hm hm hm hmmmmmmmmmm hm hm
Hm hm hm hm hmmmmmmmmmmmm hm hm
HM HM HM HM HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM HM HM
hm hm hm
hm
HMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!

Finally Dr Shivers was kind enough to unplug Disney's bloody bin and good bloody riddance I say! He then arranged to have my head sewn unto a suitable donor.

It took a while for my memories to return but eventually they did. It was now 1975 and when I started telling people about my memories I was captured in a large butterfly net, clinically diagnosed as a certified nutjob, and tossed into the Looney Bin.

There I met the indomitable Randall McMurphy who ignominiously treated to a free Lobotomy. I myself narrowly escaped the same fate but narrowly managed to flee from that horrid,wretched, place when Chief Bromden threw a water fountain through a barred window.


That's enough for today. Bono and Gates are coming over for Lunch and I simply must finish making Cucumber Sandwiches.

22 comments:

  1. Remember to slice the crusts off the cucumber sandwiches.

    ReplyDelete
  2. oookay....I googled Penelope Pinkbitz and guess whose blog came first! i got my bimbo geography all wrong these days.

    This is slam dunk piece of writing I say. If only all blog post was fluent and easy as this....sigh...slipping back into depression.

    Happy St. Valentines LT...may you have a great day today.

    ReplyDelete
  3. I must say, this explains a lot...

    ReplyDelete
  4. Bono and Gates? That's where they are. You know it's big Steve J you should really be speaking to. And yes, always cut the crusts off.

    ReplyDelete
  5. AN incredible journey of adventure, suffering and derring-do that only serves to make you even more dashing and adorable, not least due to your connexion with that sex-pot Darwin.

    "A statistically improbable incident occurred" - precisely what this Lady thought when she heard the preposterous lyrics to that godawful song:

    "What's that comin' over the hill, is it a monster, is it a monstaaaaaah?"

    ReplyDelete
  6. This is one of those stories that, if anyone else told it, you simply wouldn't believe it.

    ReplyDelete
  7. LOL so that LORD was u? hahaha nice one HE!

    Keshi.

    ReplyDelete
  8. See what happens when you go out with some bloke from Shrewsbury? You'll know better next time.

    ReplyDelete
  9. statistically improbable? i say he colluded with that Doolittle bounder and, having learned the marine monsters' crypotic cant, called that fatal piscine fiend to feast foully and fatally on your form!!!!!

    look at him sitting there with his...his brown suit and everything.

    ReplyDelete
  10. OK, you now have proven what I've always known: YOU ARE A CERTIFIABLE LOONEY.

    And this is frickin' funny.

    Ms. Pinkbitz and her pink bits are beyond human comprehension, but then so are your depictions of you and wotshisname being devoured by a great white.

    Lovely illustrations though.

    The story weaves its way to its logical conclusion as your frozen head meets Walt Disney and other famous people.

    There could be no free lobotomy for you. You have to have a normal brain to have one.

    You, clearly, are far from normal. They wouldn't know where to start.

    This is a new direction for you, I dare say, WOT, and incredibly insane, but quite informative and ground-breaking.

    Tally ho, how were those sandwiches, then?

    ReplyDelete
  11. I understood it all!

    ReplyDelete
  12. My Lord..or whatever that you go by, I don't give a damn,

    Would you please learn to shut that trap of yours? I was kind of yawning all through this post of yours which you obviously lifted from some place else.

    May you choke on that cucumber, tennis(whatever!)

    ReplyDelete
  13. You should seriously consider writing stories for children.

    ReplyDelete
  14. After reading that I think you deserved to be caught in that butterfly net. :oP

    ReplyDelete
  15. Did you see Ted Williams by any chance?

    Lobsters.. you chose Lobsters LOL

    Very clever!

    ReplyDelete
  16. I am thoroughly impressed by the way you worked the word Boobies into this piece of writing.There should be more of it.


    (byzantine maze question has been answered :) ).

    ReplyDelete
  17. Beast at Work3:50 AM

    Well what a to do your Lordship , just goes to show a gentleman can never be too careful.
    Miss Pinkbitz sounds delightful , does she play the oboe ???

    ReplyDelete
  18. At the risk of appearing myopic by focusing on such a small part of this Odyssey...

    I HATE "It's a Small World After All." My mind was temporarily deranged by it, at least I suppose it was temporary, when I went on the Whatever Ride at Disneyworld and they played it incessantly.

    Oh... I'm pretty sure the ride was called "It's a Small World."

    I heard it repeating in my head, fortunately at gradually less frequent intervals, for roughly two years. I have not returned to Disneyworld.

    ReplyDelete
  19. PS: O, vile Darwinianist! I spurn the misbegotten notion that Man descended from the ape. For would we not have ascended from the ape rather than descended if this silly evolutionary theory were true? If we had descended from the apes then would we not be, I don't know, like maybe one of those really little monkeys, I forget the name.

    Now that I've disproved the Great Darwinian Conspiracy, let me assure you, Sir, that neither do I accept nor condone the Intelligent Design hypothesis.

    For the weight of evidence, far more than for ID or evolution, lies in favor of Unintelligent Design.

    Things don't work. Stuff breaks. A super power gets a super dimwit for its leader. I could go on and on, but you get the drift...

    And thus it was revealed unto me within a dream, Sir, that God, upon that famous and literal day of creation (btw, of course a day for God isn't 24 hours since the sun wasn't there yet - for God, one day = 24 Apocalyptic Eras. I figured this out by counting the syllables in the Book of Revelation, dividing by three, and rapping mineself upon mine goodly head once, yet firmly, with my stout cane...)

    Anyway, as I was saying...

    It was revealed to me, good Sir, that God, upon that aforesaid Literal Day which lives forever in the anals of Way-Prehistory and shines brightest in the Minds of Those who so apprehend it... anyway... what was my point?

    Oh yeah. He must have outsourced. That's the best hypothesis as to why the Unintelligent Design of so much Stuff. I think it was a firm called MuddyWater.

    ReplyDelete
  20. okay... admit it... you were drunk when you wrote that weren't you!?!!

    it was like reading the introduction to the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy!

    ReplyDelete

Danke für das Kommentieren/Gracias por comentar/Merci du commentaire/Вы для комментария/Thank You for commenting/Σας ευχαριστώ για το σχολιασμό/Grazie per commentare/Tak for kommentaren...

click yer cursor matey...

LinkWithin

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...