One day Bernard Humpleflump woke up to find that he was the only human left on the planet.
The end.
Monday 15 November 2010
Saturday 30 October 2010
Folding skills and horses/cows.
Evening kids. And welcome back after my longest break between blogging of a whole 16 days. And there you were thinking I’d gone forever. Sorry about that.
Anyway a few days ago right, I was at a fish and chip shop near my grandparents (that’s the kind of healthy life I lead) and the person who served me had the fastest folding skills I have ever seen. Like ever. This may seem like a rather underwhelming and pointless talent to be blessed with, but seriously it was crazy. She folded those chips up like her life depended on it. So, naturally I asked if I could film her folding to put on my blog.
No I didn’t. I’m not quite at that level of nerdiness yet. I wish I had though, I can see you all now- the looks of shock and wonder on your faces as you played and replayed this video of insane folding power. But I’m afraid you’ll just have to use your imaginations to see it.
I also ended up going on a ‘fun’ walk in the countryside with my family which went around some cow-patted field somewhere in some town. We spent a good ten minutes of the walk debating over whether or not a horse in a field had a white coat on or was naturally patterned that way. That’s just a taste of how cultured and exciting family conversations get. It turned out to be a cow.
We also came along a large stretch of electric fence that we had to walk alongside. This made me extremely jumpy as I had a nasty encounter with one when I was younger. So every time anyone stepped within one metre of them I practically screamed at them to “GET AWAY FROM THAT EVIL THING YOU IDIOT!” By the time we finished I was a wreck.
And that’s about it in terms of life updates. 15 blogless days summed up in one beautiful moment of super-speedy folding. Oh, and my older sister’s back from uni for the weekend, which means that the TV has been well and truly taken over and will remain so for the next 24 hours. I usually end on a witty note, so I thought I’d ask you this- do you know any living soul who would ever consider buying this?
That is all.
Anyway a few days ago right, I was at a fish and chip shop near my grandparents (that’s the kind of healthy life I lead) and the person who served me had the fastest folding skills I have ever seen. Like ever. This may seem like a rather underwhelming and pointless talent to be blessed with, but seriously it was crazy. She folded those chips up like her life depended on it. So, naturally I asked if I could film her folding to put on my blog.
No I didn’t. I’m not quite at that level of nerdiness yet. I wish I had though, I can see you all now- the looks of shock and wonder on your faces as you played and replayed this video of insane folding power. But I’m afraid you’ll just have to use your imaginations to see it.
I also ended up going on a ‘fun’ walk in the countryside with my family which went around some cow-patted field somewhere in some town. We spent a good ten minutes of the walk debating over whether or not a horse in a field had a white coat on or was naturally patterned that way. That’s just a taste of how cultured and exciting family conversations get. It turned out to be a cow.
We also came along a large stretch of electric fence that we had to walk alongside. This made me extremely jumpy as I had a nasty encounter with one when I was younger. So every time anyone stepped within one metre of them I practically screamed at them to “GET AWAY FROM THAT EVIL THING YOU IDIOT!” By the time we finished I was a wreck.
And that’s about it in terms of life updates. 15 blogless days summed up in one beautiful moment of super-speedy folding. Oh, and my older sister’s back from uni for the weekend, which means that the TV has been well and truly taken over and will remain so for the next 24 hours. I usually end on a witty note, so I thought I’d ask you this- do you know any living soul who would ever consider buying this?
Wednesday 13 October 2010
A serendipitous enlightenment and an ounce of tomfoolery.
This morning I made a delectible discovery; I had just been surreptitiously organising my fruit-bowl when I happened to chance upon a rounded diaphanous jar of tesco's finest spread of chocolate. Despite it's high amount of sugars and fats (Maltodextrin to name but one) I find that a chocolate based spread is an indulgence far too sublime for one to simply bypass. Just a trifle of such an extravagance every fortnight or so is sure to do little or no harm by any case.
I decided that the best form in which my spread could be consumed would be on a slice of lightly grilled bread. I briefly considered my options before extracting a slice of tesco's finest whole grain bread. Something about the concinnity of smooth, silky chocolate on a bed of fresh, crisp bread awakes a certain voracious nature within my being which more often than not precipitates in the particular sustenance of subject being consumed at a rapid rate.
Such joyous moments in life, such as in the context aforementioned, are to be treasured on high, amongst all other euphoric experiences that come to pass. However, it is time that this episode of virtual journalism drew to a close, as I have a momentus amount of college work to immerse myself into.
xxxx
Okay, and now to explain. Yesterday I had the bright idea of doing a spoof of my good friend Rachel's blog (click here) as she tends to use a lot of very VERY posh language. Not to take anything away from it though, it's really good. Just really intelligent, though this spoof may only be funny if you've read her blog before. And before you tell me off for being a meany, I did ask her permission and recieved a resouding response ("...yeah if you want to")
Back to normal next time, because all that thesaurus work was a killer. And the spellcheck. Geez.
I decided that the best form in which my spread could be consumed would be on a slice of lightly grilled bread. I briefly considered my options before extracting a slice of tesco's finest whole grain bread. Something about the concinnity of smooth, silky chocolate on a bed of fresh, crisp bread awakes a certain voracious nature within my being which more often than not precipitates in the particular sustenance of subject being consumed at a rapid rate.
Such joyous moments in life, such as in the context aforementioned, are to be treasured on high, amongst all other euphoric experiences that come to pass. However, it is time that this episode of virtual journalism drew to a close, as I have a momentus amount of college work to immerse myself into.
xxxx
Okay, and now to explain. Yesterday I had the bright idea of doing a spoof of my good friend Rachel's blog (click here) as she tends to use a lot of very VERY posh language. Not to take anything away from it though, it's really good. Just really intelligent, though this spoof may only be funny if you've read her blog before. And before you tell me off for being a meany, I did ask her permission and recieved a resouding response ("...yeah if you want to")
Back to normal next time, because all that thesaurus work was a killer. And the spellcheck. Geez.
Saturday 2 October 2010
Getting a job.
Recently I've noticed there's been a bit of a lull in the whole blogging thing with people. This is probably because people have decided to get on with their lifes and focus on more important things than blogging. I, on the other hand am far too sad to give it up and far too much of a slacker to focus wholly on college. So there we go, I will strive to keep this blog going for as long as I live. Or you die of boredom.
So anyway, as I'm now fully a student don't you know, I've decided that my lack of money is really just quite annoying now so I've been doing a bit of job hunting. Why do they call it that- job 'hunting'? In my case it's more job 'running-after-lamely-and-pleading-in-a-high-pitched-voice'. But I suppose 'hunting' is a little easier to say.
I've been handing out CVs in virtually every shop I pass at the moment
(not John Anthony mind, that shop is scary- see an older post Scary Shops for more on that)
and I even got an on-the-spot interview at a clothes shop. They didn't phone back. At one shop, after handing out my CV, I was asked what weekdays I would be available to work on.
"Eeeeuhhh Mondays" I blurted out to my horror, realising as soon as I'd said it that mondays are the only days of the week I'm NOT available. I stood there in awkward silence pondering whether or not to correct what I'd said. On the one hand I needed to say what days I would actually be able to work, but then it'd make me seem unproffesional and a bit, er, goofy. So I just stood there dumbly for about 15 seconds whilst the cogs clicked around in my head. I had to tell them in the end. They haven't phoned back.
So the search continues. I'll just have to bear with my skintness for a bit longer. It's not all that bad not having a job anyway. You have way more free time to see people and uhh...write blogs.
Rightyho, time to end on a more positive note I think. So here you go:
I'm sorry, but whoever made this is an actual genius. Full Stop. Night.
So anyway, as I'm now fully a student don't you know, I've decided that my lack of money is really just quite annoying now so I've been doing a bit of job hunting. Why do they call it that- job 'hunting'? In my case it's more job 'running-after-lamely-and-pleading-in-a-high-pitched-voice'. But I suppose 'hunting' is a little easier to say.
I've been handing out CVs in virtually every shop I pass at the moment
(not John Anthony mind, that shop is scary- see an older post Scary Shops for more on that)
and I even got an on-the-spot interview at a clothes shop. They didn't phone back. At one shop, after handing out my CV, I was asked what weekdays I would be available to work on.
"Eeeeuhhh Mondays" I blurted out to my horror, realising as soon as I'd said it that mondays are the only days of the week I'm NOT available. I stood there in awkward silence pondering whether or not to correct what I'd said. On the one hand I needed to say what days I would actually be able to work, but then it'd make me seem unproffesional and a bit, er, goofy. So I just stood there dumbly for about 15 seconds whilst the cogs clicked around in my head. I had to tell them in the end. They haven't phoned back.
So the search continues. I'll just have to bear with my skintness for a bit longer. It's not all that bad not having a job anyway. You have way more free time to see people and uhh...write blogs.
Rightyho, time to end on a more positive note I think. So here you go:
Thursday 16 September 2010
Stephen King's face
Ohh dear it's been far too long since my last post. 14 days would you believe it, and this is mainly down to the fact that my life really isn't that interesting. I know right? I was shocked too. But don't worry, hopefully the lengthy gaps will mean you stay marginally interested. At least, um, that's what I'm hoping.
Anyway, due to my lack of inspiration I'm going to get a little bit of help. I'm just about to ask my friend Carlo http://carloprinzi.blogspot.com/ if he has any ideas on a theme. Back in a minute...
Anyway, due to my lack of inspiration I'm going to get a little bit of help. I'm just about to ask my friend Carlo http://carloprinzi.blogspot.com/ if he has any ideas on a theme. Back in a minute...
"Do a blog about how odd Stephen King's face is."
Umm, well, top marks for originality. For those of you who don't know, Stephen King is an American author of contemporary horror, suspense, science fiction and fantasy fiction. Cheers wikipedia!
But now that I've actually seen his face I understand exactly what Carlo means.
It looks like some square-headed robot had tried to squeeze a much-too-small face over it's head. His eyes are far too small through those glasses and the skin around them is a different shade too the rest of his face. One eyebrow is half-an-inch higher than the other. The two stray hairs on his face look like some weird radar interceptors. And he has a butt crack on his forehead.
Let me repeat that.
He has a buttcrack on his forehead.
In conclusion, Stephen King is not human. He is, however, an American author of contemporary horror, suspense, science fiction and fantasy fiction. Essay completed.
Thursday 2 September 2010
Scary Shops
Afternoon all, it's been a while- I decided to leave it long enough so that you don't get too carried away by the sheer brilliance of my blog, and so, like Christmas it only comes around every so often and is usually awesome. Usually.
Anyway I thought I'd share with you the utterly terrifying experience I had the other day at the shops. I had decided, in that testosterone fuelled manner that it was time to go clothes shopping. This wasn't some spontaenious and flamboyant fashion trip mind- I did need some new clothes for college. Just had to add that excuse in to ensure my masculine reputation isn't tarnished.
So I'm mooching around the shops in the town centre trying to look cool and carefree; I am a young, independant soon-to-be college student off to buy some new clothing. The only problem is the rain is falling out of the sky like, well, like rain does, and I have no coat and no umbrella. Regrettably I have to speed up my cool nochalant walk which makes me look like some kind of injured war veteran. People start staring, so I switch to a crazy-rain-avoider run to blend in with everyone else.
I walk past a shop called 'John Anthony'. The clothing in the window looks nice and it's not too busy, so in my naivety I decide to walk in.
I soon find out why it's so empty. John Anthony may as well be rebranded 'Tory clothing ltd.' The price tags are ridiculous. I wander over to a rack of nice looking polo shirts and casually flip up a price label. £75. My palms start to sweat- I need to leave. But as the sole customer I now have the undivided attention of the posh-designer-stubble-shopping-assistant-don't-you-know, who is glaring at me with a "your way too poor for this shop, boy" type glare.
This is like some insane battle of the classes. I must make it look like price doesn't matter. I drift over to varius items of clothing and pretend I'm interested in buying them. Sauntering over to a pile of jeans, I rifle through them tastefully, nodding and raising my eyebrows at how good they are and what a dignified jeans expert I am. Deciding that I've probably won the shop assistant over, I hastily trot to the entrance and practically leap out the door. Never again will I enter that terrifying shop.
So there it was, my horribly awkward visit to John Anthony. Hope I didn't play it up too much. Anyway, next blog I'm sure I'll be back to ranting about all of the annoying things in my life such as this:
Now I'm all for fun, kooky facebook groups but this is just too far my friend. It's cheesiness (or rather it's toastiness hardy-har) makes me want to never eat toast again in protest. When I go online I do useful things like answering emails, playing pacman, and writing witty popular blogs. Not to share my 'toasty love' with the world. Arrrgh. G'night.
Anyway I thought I'd share with you the utterly terrifying experience I had the other day at the shops. I had decided, in that testosterone fuelled manner that it was time to go clothes shopping. This wasn't some spontaenious and flamboyant fashion trip mind- I did need some new clothes for college. Just had to add that excuse in to ensure my masculine reputation isn't tarnished.
So I'm mooching around the shops in the town centre trying to look cool and carefree; I am a young, independant soon-to-be college student off to buy some new clothing. The only problem is the rain is falling out of the sky like, well, like rain does, and I have no coat and no umbrella. Regrettably I have to speed up my cool nochalant walk which makes me look like some kind of injured war veteran. People start staring, so I switch to a crazy-rain-avoider run to blend in with everyone else.
I walk past a shop called 'John Anthony'. The clothing in the window looks nice and it's not too busy, so in my naivety I decide to walk in.
I soon find out why it's so empty. John Anthony may as well be rebranded 'Tory clothing ltd.' The price tags are ridiculous. I wander over to a rack of nice looking polo shirts and casually flip up a price label. £75. My palms start to sweat- I need to leave. But as the sole customer I now have the undivided attention of the posh-designer-stubble-shopping-assistant-don't-you-know, who is glaring at me with a "your way too poor for this shop, boy" type glare.
This is like some insane battle of the classes. I must make it look like price doesn't matter. I drift over to varius items of clothing and pretend I'm interested in buying them. Sauntering over to a pile of jeans, I rifle through them tastefully, nodding and raising my eyebrows at how good they are and what a dignified jeans expert I am. Deciding that I've probably won the shop assistant over, I hastily trot to the entrance and practically leap out the door. Never again will I enter that terrifying shop.
So there it was, my horribly awkward visit to John Anthony. Hope I didn't play it up too much. Anyway, next blog I'm sure I'll be back to ranting about all of the annoying things in my life such as this:
Wednesday 18 August 2010
Time filling ideas and the nasty beeping noise
Okeydokey, so here we are, back on the old blogerog. Well, in general terms it's actually quite new, but anyway you get my meaning. I hope. Let's move on.
So I'm back home after a fantastic week at this Christian camp called Soul Survivor. I've been once before and it's just amazing- as a Christian, I find it really refreshing to be around so many other young people with similar beliefs. Though by the end of it I didn't look too pretty:
Stunner.
Plus a few of us made an incredibly nerdy game involving a stack of plastic cups, a penguin torch and a pack of cards, which is really far too complex and bizzarre to explain in one post and will probably end up with me losing the thousands who follow this blog*.
Anyway, I'm back home with a few more weeks to kill until the new term and college (screams) begins, so I'm determined to use them well. I'll maybe learn a few new songs on the ukulele, do a bit of cooking here and there and perhaps if I'm desperate I'll try a bit of exercise. But here's the thing- that's not nearly enough. If anyone's got any ideas for me to try out, for example knit a sweater, learn portugese, try out bog snorkeling then lemme know yeah? I'm up for almost anything. Well, most things. Okay maybe a few, but I'll try my best.
One thing I have noticed since arriving home is that my parents have rented yet another boxset of 24. Now I'm in no position to criticise 24, as I've never actually watched it. But after about ten nights of constant beeping noises thundering out from the living room it becomes pretty unbearable to live with (you know what I mean if you've ever seen it- every few minutes some digital clock thing beeps in an annoying fashion that makes me want to violently run down to asda and purchase a pair of ear plugs). So as you can imagine I wasn't really jumping with joy when I saw this latest season sitting innocently on our shoe cupboard. The thing's evil I tell you**. But ahh well, maybe this time round I'll be mature enough to cope...
Forget it, someone burn my ears off.
*When I say 'thousands' I actually mean 7. Let's not get ahead of ourselves now eh?
**The 24 boxset, not our shoe cupboard.
So I'm back home after a fantastic week at this Christian camp called Soul Survivor. I've been once before and it's just amazing- as a Christian, I find it really refreshing to be around so many other young people with similar beliefs. Though by the end of it I didn't look too pretty:
Plus a few of us made an incredibly nerdy game involving a stack of plastic cups, a penguin torch and a pack of cards, which is really far too complex and bizzarre to explain in one post and will probably end up with me losing the thousands who follow this blog*.
Anyway, I'm back home with a few more weeks to kill until the new term and college (screams) begins, so I'm determined to use them well. I'll maybe learn a few new songs on the ukulele, do a bit of cooking here and there and perhaps if I'm desperate I'll try a bit of exercise. But here's the thing- that's not nearly enough. If anyone's got any ideas for me to try out, for example knit a sweater, learn portugese, try out bog snorkeling then lemme know yeah? I'm up for almost anything. Well, most things. Okay maybe a few, but I'll try my best.
One thing I have noticed since arriving home is that my parents have rented yet another boxset of 24. Now I'm in no position to criticise 24, as I've never actually watched it. But after about ten nights of constant beeping noises thundering out from the living room it becomes pretty unbearable to live with (you know what I mean if you've ever seen it- every few minutes some digital clock thing beeps in an annoying fashion that makes me want to violently run down to asda and purchase a pair of ear plugs). So as you can imagine I wasn't really jumping with joy when I saw this latest season sitting innocently on our shoe cupboard. The thing's evil I tell you**. But ahh well, maybe this time round I'll be mature enough to cope...
Forget it, someone burn my ears off.
*When I say 'thousands' I actually mean 7. Let's not get ahead of ourselves now eh?
**The 24 boxset, not our shoe cupboard.
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