January 18, 2005

Changing History With Paint

Oh lá lá!

I turned on the television this morning and the first thing that I saw was (look above) Trevor (the traction engine, of cult classic children's tv show Thomas the Tank Engine) backing into his sleep tunnel or whatever the devil it is called, and Ringo Starr saying,

'Trevor closed his eyes and whispered happily, "Oh I do like children."'

Do you indeed Trevor! Well best not be mentioning that on television!

Just look at his creepy little face.

Speaking of children, I gave birth to one and forgot to mention it, and here's me, hugging it or something.

DIRTY BABY

I spent a fascinated hour watching Doctor Phil on his REVOLUTIONARY RELATIONSHIP RETREAT this morning with five pathetic couples who were trying to make it work. (The couples were on the tv show; I wasn't sitting watching it with them.) I now love Doctor Phil and his great big shiny head, and if my marriage is ever failing, I will ring him in a demanding fashion and get him to fix us by announcing COLD HARD FACTS and so on. Yay! I'm tempted to have an affair just so I can meet him. I believe that I am sufficiently screwed up in la tete to qualify for an episode. That's French for "the head"; I didn't want to say it in English in case I was accused of repeating myself in this paragraph. And if I am not sufficiently screwed up, I am sure that there is a series of acts that I can commit that will suggest otherwise.

When I woke up today the ground was covered with snow. GRAND SOFT DAY THANK GOD. What does that MEAN?!

SONG ABOUT LUNCH

(sing it to the tune of Oh When the Saints Go Marching In)

Oh when it's time
To eat the lunch
Oh when it's time to eat the lunch
I want to be
The one who eats it
When it's briefly after brunch

Oh when it's free
Oh when it's free
Oh when the lunch is free for me
I want to eat
A lunch for triplets
Cos this would cause catastrophe

It was a can
It was a can
It was a can of spa-ghet-ti
And it was shared
With all and sundry
Leaving just one bite for me

This makes me sad
This makes me mad
Cos it was all to be for me
But then they ate
And stuffed their faces
And now they're full as full can be

Oh when it's time
To eat the lunch
Oh when it's time to eat the lunch
I want to be
The one who eats it
When it's briefly after brunch

--Tomorrow, a song about the injustice of the housemates having eaten the can of spaghetti, and the bloodshed that ensued.

neuro-praxis -- Has Not a Jot Of Intention Of Getting Dressed Today

Posted by neuro-praxis on January 18, 2005 01:37 PM, in the category Teriyaki Steak