Soooooo. Yes, I know it's been a while. The truth is, I've just recovered from the operation to have my running tights removed. I wrote my last blog whilst still wearing them, and I was wondering why I was thinking so clearly that night.
It turns out that these bloody tights were gripping the lower half of my body so damn tightly, it was forcing all the blood into the upper half of my body, including my brain. By the time I'd finished writing it, the lower half of my body had the look and feel of a well squeezed tube of toothpaste.
But, what's concerned me enough to post my next blog is this. Occasionally, I like to check out who has been reading this drivel. I mean, these people must be off their freaking heads. Or Russian, as it turns out. For some strange reason, I have quite a following over there. Well, when I say quite a following, 3 to be exact. The television reception must be truly awful over there.
Anyway, whilst checking out how people were getting to my site, I tracked a link back to Google. Someone had typed into Google, and I'm not kidding here, 'Rate my blow up doll'.
Now hang on a minute. Rate my blow up doll? What the heck is THAT all about? I'm trying to imagine the scenario here.
Some lonely guy is looking for some action. He's fed up with DIY, and has also run out of hand cream. His personal hygiene, and chronic acne mean he's got more chance of hooking up with a rolled up copy of a daily newspaper than a proper living girl. Hang on! Sy, is that you?
"I know, I'll buy a blow up doll" he thinks. But, having never been in the market for such a thing, he has to research it first.
Now I suspect, and I'm only guessing here, that 'Which' magazine does not review this type of thing, so the guy decides to turn to the internet. After all, when buying a blow up doll, what sort of things do you look for. And what questions do you ask?
And do you go new, or second hand? I'm guessing puncture resistance has to be a fairly high priority. The last thing you want is for the damn thing to go down on you whilst 'in use'. Besides, that option would only be available on the deluxe model I'm guessing.
And once you get the thing home, how do you start the courtship? Well obviously, inflation is probably a pretty early step I'm guessing. Do you go through the whole fantasy? Sit her down, talk to her. Offer to buy her a dress. Or Take That tickets maybe?
Or, maybe I have got this whole scenario all wrong. Maybe this person has already bought said blow up doll, and has already given it a 'test run', and now wants to post his comments for other potential buyers.
"Having got the doll out of the box, and upon checking, I realised that the inflation valve was too big".
Perhaps it's his job. Hey, someone has to test these things I suppose. And how do you get THAT sort of job? It's not exactly the type of thing you see at the local job centre.
I guess it serves me right for putting the term 'blow up doll' into one of my blog titles. I did it thinking I would get some hits in this way, but didn't really think it would actually work. It's certainly got me thinking about future blog titles. I did, for example, consider writing this one about, and calling it '100 things to do with warmed, hollowed fruit'. However, after writing about the first thing to do with hollowed, warmed fruit, it kinda put me off the other 99.
Something else that caught my attention this week. Apparently, they are looking at more efficient, and environmentally friendly ways of disposing with us, once we shuffle off this mortal coil. Whilst it's widely acknowledged that burial is no longer practical, cremation uses up a lot of carbon dioxides, whatever that means.
So, they've come up with a new idea. It involves putting the body in water, adding some chemicals, and boiling the whole lot up to 120 degrees for several hours. This turns everything into a kind of soup, which they simply pour down the drain.
Well, sign me up baby.
Being a bit claustrophobic, I don't like the idea of being placed in a box for all of time, to slowly rot away and be eaten by worms.
And cremation would be extremely dangerous. Being full of gas as I am, I would be less burn, more bang. And whilst taking out half the congregation would be a great way to go, it wouldn't be very responsible now, would it?
So, I'm all for this 'turn me into soup' thing. It means all my family and friends could stand around this giant cauldron, and watch me disappear before their eyes. Maybe they could all take turns to have a stir. Make a wish perhaps.
"I wish this bugger would hurry up and liquidize. I'm parked on a double yellow".
And at the end of it all? I couldn't think of a better, and more appropriate way for me to go, than be flushed down the sewer with the rest of the turds.
P.T.F.O.
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