The view from the balcony.
THE TIME – somewhere in the world.
I’m fed up with all the nonsense spouted about the origins of the universe so I’ve decided to get it all down here in writing to put an end to the endless waffling.
Ok, it’s all quite simples innit.
Nobody seems to know what gravity is exactly (I do though *looks smug*) and yet them scientists nerds have been able to measure them gravitational waves. *Waves back* This discovery has firmed up my own theory (theory? I don’t think so #fact) on the origins of stuff.
So … several infinite years ago in the space wot surrounds us all for several infinite miles, there was quite a soup of stuff and then a black hole had a bit of a thing with another black hole and the result was messy. (On a domestic level imagine the consequences of several pints of beer followed by an extremely hot curry. *pause* Got that?).
Anyhoo dark matter was scattered far and wide, some bits bigger than others. Some larger bits swallowed up soup so that it went into other infinite universes and disappeared from ours. Other bits were so small that the soup clogged up the orifice in the dark matter, a bit like peas and bits of onion plug up your sink. (Got it? You should have – it ain’t rocket science).
More and more stuff gravitated round these blockages and so stars and planets and moons and whatever all got formed over many of our infinite years.
What we perceive as gravity is this tiny bit of dark matter that is right at the core of the world, sucking at our feet and is what keeps us from floating around when we have a nap on the sofa. Basically the world sucks.
This all seems to be bleedin’ obvious to me I don’t really know why I’m bothering to write this.
Anyway, that’s it, so stop your worrying and fretting and get on with something useful like cooking me a meal or sending loads of money to my ‘shed’ fund.
(Warning – the following might offend some people)
I was shocked to discover that Grumpy has fallen off the wagon and started sexting again.
I’ve decided, after much thought and soul searching, to ‘show and tell’ in the hope that this disgusting and depraved behavior will stop.
(Another warning – there’s a picture approaching)
(Advisory note – best viewed with your eyes shut)
Sorry about that but it had to be done.
(The curtain opens to reveal Daddy Papersurfer asleep on a sofa)
(Uma Thurman dressed as Mia Wallace from Pulp Fiction enters stage right and starts dancing to “You never can tell” by Chuck Berry)
(DP wakes, stands up and collapses)
(Uma takes a bow and the curtain closes)
(The audience hears a siren)
(A paramedic team rush down an aisle and go onto the stage and behind the curtains)
The audience remain sitting in stunned silence.
(Behind the scenes Uma Thurman goes back to her hotel muttering “What the f**k!!?!” and immediately phones her agent.)
“I say I say I say, my dog has no nose. How does he smell? He can’t.
What’s brown and sticky? A pile of poo.
I think I’m a pair of curtains. Go away, you’re mad.
What’s brown, steams and comes out of Cowes? Poo
Knock knock! Who’s there? Little old lady. Little old lady who? Beryl
Two guys walk into a bar. A third guy joins them.
Why can’t a nose be 12” long? Because that’s impossible.
What lives on the bottom of the ocean and shivers? A cold bottom dweller.
A man goes into hospital with six plastic horses jammed up his bum. The doctors described his condition as embarrassing.
Why does Piglet smell? Because he plays with poo.
What did the big chimney say to the little chimney? Nothing, it’s a chimney. Chimneys can’t talk.
What’s orange and sounds like a parrot? An orange parrot.”
(Eye thank youuuuuuuu! If you wish to book me I am available … surprisingly)
The main characters are Daddy Papersurfer (DP) and a banker (B)
DP – “I’m trying to find out how banking works.”
B – “OK, fire away.”
DP – “So, if I want to borrow money you charge something like 5% interest?”
B – “Yes.”
DP – “ …and you lend me money that someone else has entrusted to your care – you don’t use your own money?”
B – “Correct.”
DP – “ … and you might pay this person 1% interest… if they’re lucky?”
B – “Correct.”
DP – “ … and you keep the 4% interest difference just for doing some paperwork?”
B – “Correct.”
DP – “What happens if you get your figures wrong?”
B – “Oh, the government steps in and rescues us.”
DP – “And where does the government get their money?”
B – “From the tax payer.”
DP – “Oh.”
B – “Has that cleared it all up for you Mr Daddy Papersurfer?”
DP – “Oh yes.”
B – “Good. Fancy a drink. You’re paying. I think I’ll have a bottle of Champers.”
(The cast members take a bow while the audience sits in stunned silence)
It is with a heavy heart that I must announce the death
of the Fairlight Eye.
This iconic landmark, which has played such a significant role in making Fairlight, E.Sussex into the must-visit tourist destination status that it enjoys today, was destroyed by heavy winds last night.
In my role as ninja sculpture doctor (untrained with no qualifications at all), I call death at, more or less, early this morning.
There is some hope for the resurrection of the Fairlight Eye, I say this in my role as a plastic surgeon, but I fear that this just might not be possible.
There might or might not be a memorial service at the Hastings recycling plant later in the month. This will depend on whether I can stay awake when I operate later today. I’ll keep interested parties informed.
I would like to ban hair to Room 101.
It has an unpredictable mind of it’s own and serves no useful purpose.
As the years meander along the hair on your noddle loses the will to live and the energy that it once spent is redirected to all those secret places where hair lurks. The ears, the nostrils, the back and other areas of outstanding natural beauty all suffer from growing pains while the pate turns into an air conditioning unit.
Even ladies aren’t exempt. I remember when my mother was ancient there were three follicles on her chin that sprang forth like non-barbed barbed wire that used to tie themselves in knots around her soup spoon.
I know people will say that hair helps with avoiding chaffing etc but many women I know, and several men, shave under their armpits and I have never noticed them yelling “Ouch” when marching around swinging their arms.
We should all be totally bald with not a single hair on any part of our bodies. It would make life much simpler and predictable.
(Apologies to hairdressers and ‘product’ manufacturers – you’ll just have to retrain)
I have invented the ever-lasting and interactive firework!
Imagine the excitement of the family gathered round as this magnificent invention is hurled into the air and everyone has a wondeful time going “Whooooosh, ahhhhhhhhh, BANG!!!!!”
It can then be picked up, so long as it’s been thrown thoughtfully and carefully of course, and then used again and again!
(Can be used indoors as well as outdoors.)
The money saved plus the lack of danger makes this a ‘must have’ for young and old alike!
(Disclaimer – sticks can be dangerous – splinters, pokes in the eye, flammable etc. This toy should not be taken orally)
Over the billions of years that the universe has been floating around there have been a smidge under an infinite number of coincidences that have made this and that. This is all very jolly and extremely groovy.
That is until these were created in 1963.
Now… if there is a deity or deities in charge then surely this would have been the time when the ‘delete’ button would have been pressed. Well, perhaps not when they were first conceived and manufactured, they could have just been seen as a ‘blip’, but certainly action would have been necessary on the resurgence of their popularity that I’ve noticed over the last few years. Honestly, what is the point?
I present this as proof that we’re are on our own. We really must start taking our responsibilities more seriously.
This is the way my world wags, yours might be different.