I DREAM OF JEANS

Last night I had a dream. I dreamed of my jeans. Except they weren't really my jeans. They also had a hole in them and I wondered why. When I woke up I checked my jeans. No hole!
Avast oh dream-like state! Why dost thou tempt and demoralise I, yon patron?

Jean, seem clean,
Jean, hole: none.
Jean in dream,
Trickest everyone.

Make me feel sad,
Make me feel blue.
Make me want to kiss a mad
Man's dirty shoe.

- Written in disgust after lousy dream.

CRIMINAL INTENTIONS: THE LIGHTER SIDE OF EVIL

An excerpt from the essay by Edmund McEdmond

The criminal brain is bereft of love, desire to love and a caring nature. It does, however, contain a large amount of humour - specifically in the Nagel Area. This humourous section, when prodded with pins - can oftentimes result in the criminal mind delivering a joke with witty timing.

An example of this is when Hitler, whilst hiding under a desk during the bombing of his bunker in the last days of World War 2, was accidentally pricked by a pin in the Nagel Area. In delight, he exclaimed, "I, die Fuhrer, iz zoon to be de Fuhrer: die."

SUDDENLY SUSAN

Suddenly Susan
By Drew Apache

Suddenly I approach thou door,
Suddenly I go back to where I t'were afore.
Silently I turn, my dear,
And see 'a twixt behind arrear,
Yon mirror, of which I ne'er has seen.
And there, oh there, oh hindered heart,
Torn asunder, flung apart,
Suddenly I appear to be,
Suddenly Susan, and not be me.

WHAT IS WORSE? NAZISM OR FREEWILL?

Neither - it is a trick question as they are mutually exclusive.
Legally binding, they intertwine and mingle, often making it hard to discern where the Nazism starts and the freewill begins.

EASTER - THE REASON WE CELEBRATE

Easter, first invented by the Pagans in 1942, was originally intended to recognise the Eastern-most part of the African coast.
A region of chocolate growers and consumers, the Nazis targeted 'The Easter' (as the area became known) during WW2.
Many chicken farmers, fearing chocolatière reprisals, covered their eggs in chocolate to hide their true origins. These chocolate makers ate these chocolate surprise eggs and later died when the building they gathered in for weekly bonsai grooming classes exploded.
We have celebrated Easter ever since.
So feast ye on yon merry egg, always in remembrance of the bonsai-loving East African chocolatières!

YOU MAKE ME SICK TERRY DAWSON!

Yes! You, and everyone who associates with you make me sick! Why, oh why, can't a decent, caring soul like myself sit at home and watch the distracting wing-beat of an ordinary house-fly?
My goodness - you would think 'going to the toilet' and 'combing one's hair' will be next on your chopping-block of 'awful, evil, faceless activities'!
Here's a tip, Terry: wake up to yourself and get over the mountain I call your HEART!

IS IT POSSIBLE?

"Is it possible," asks Mrs Verity Donet of Santa Anna, "to mix wax and beeswax?"

Well, Mrs Donet, I assume you have on your mind some intention of creating a super-candle, or failing that, a bee-like wax that is less bee-like than beeswax. And what in the world is wrong with THAT?

Mrs Donet, it IS possible to mix wax and beeswax. You do this in order to create a waxy beeswax.

- Reggie Pont-Duphries

NEVER HEARD THIS ONE BEFORE

Heard this joke today I had never heard before. Not that that should be much of a shock - there would be a gajillion jokes I've never heard before, especially in Turkish and German. Anyway, it was quite good but not the best. It was OK. I smiled but I didn't laugh. It was about Nazi Pigs. Apparently the Nazis bred pigs and tried to brainwash them into becoming Nazis who loved Aryans and all that. It worked but the bacon tasted funny. I forget the exact puchline but as I said, it was OK. Not hilarious, just normal funny.

A QUESTION FOR NICHOLAS

Dear Nick,

Did you like the fruit basket I sent over?

Love,
David

WHY THE WORLD TURNS

As the Byrds once sang,

To everything, turn, turn, turn,
There is a season, turn, turn, turn.

In other words, the world is turning and stuff happens. But why doth the world turn?
Once, lesser humans believed that the world,

Turneth ye ever slow,
As a fat man with his bow,
Shoots an arrow ever slow,
And it cometh back to meet him.

In fact, during the Renaissance, many painters would illustrate the world as a fat man gently turning. As well as this, at the turn of the 19th Century, sculptors refused to create globes or spheres for fear of Nazi reprisals.
So, turn ye Earth! Turn ye! And know that we are forever in your all-entrancing power and grip!

ALBUM COVERS THAT ARE ICKY

If anyone owns these albums, please sell them to me...

WELCOME AND POEM

So it's come to this...a blog.
Ewww! Makes me feel sick!

To start proceedings, I would like to offer up for your entertainment and amusement, this: a poem.

Round and round the worldeth goes,
Like a hankie on my nose,
Do not darest thou to blow,
Lest the world begins explode.