Archive for July 18th, 2007

Stop flying, you fool

July 18th, 2007

Bumblebees are the most idiotic creation.

bumblebee.jpg

They are thicker than a politician’s wallet.

For once, the weather isn’t bad here. I have the French doors open beside me [I got them in Ireland. I don't know why they are called French], so I can enjoy the sound of the birds, and the builders.

Flies and wasps are sensible. They know where they belong. In the garden. Not so, the bumblebees. They are queuing to fly in through the open doors.

So here is a message for all bumblebees:

If you must fly in my doors, could you please go out the same way. There is NO POINT in thwacking yourself off the windows. You will not get out that way.

When I try to help you by carrying you to the door on a piece of paper will you please not abuse my consideration by suddenly flying back to thwack yourself off the windows again.

If you must thwack off the windows, could you please avoid the spiders web above my head. I am getting tired of the buzzing. You sound like a demented dentist.

Have you not heard that aeronautical engineers have studied you, and your wing-area to body-mass is all wrong. You are unable to fly.

So buzz off, and stop annoying me.

Sackcloth and ashes

July 18th, 2007

This is by way of an apology.

In particular, it’s an apology to Going Like Sixty.

Now, Mr Sixty [or can I be informal and call you Going?] has written a lot of extremely flattering things about me. I don’t know why. He has a great blog going for Boomers [are these people who keep blowing things up? That would explain his interest in me, I suppose].

Recently he wrote about his Favourite Funny People, and I am in there with some very exalted company. I am sharing the stage with the likes of Richard Pryor, Bob Newhart and Robin Williams [Robin and I are going to have a laugh over this next time we meet for a pint].

Now I find this too flattering. I was so shocked when I read it, that I couldn’t think of a comment to post. I meant to, as it’s only polite. But I couldn’t think of anything to say that was humble enough.

And then he wrote another article called Blogging is a Conversation. Again he says some extremely flattering things. Again I am at a loss for words.

I don’t know why he chooses me? I don’t think I’m funny. Strange – yes. Weird – yes. Insane -more than likely. Funny? People avoid me at parties, because I’m so dull.

The thing that pricked my conscience though was that in the latter article he says
“The comments are worth checking everyday – sometimes more than once, because that’s where the fun is, for me at least.”

And I feel bad, because I rarely comment on his site. But he comments on mine. And that is extremely unfair.

So I am sorry. I am rotten at comments. I never know what to say. It’s a natural flaw in my character.

I have to make some kind of penance.

cilice3.jpg
I could wear a cilice?

So. For the rest of the week, I promise to give drivers correct directions, and not send them up to the bogs, no matter how painful it is. I promise to keep my weapons holstered when I see a tourist. And when I see someone with sunglasses on the top of their head, I will look the other way.

Only until the end of the week, mind.