uh-oh…

By my admittedly basic calculations, I have come to the inevitable, gut-wrenching conclusion that next Wednesday, at ten to three in the afternoon, it will be my turn to sleep with Katie Price, also known as the, “former Page Three glamour model, Jordan, aged 39.” Yeah, right.

Therefore, I have absolutely no alternative but to go into hiding immediately for my own well-being. Who knows how long I’ll be away for, or exactly how many weeks I’ll have to remain hidden behind this fake plastic moustache, but, until I return, keep well folks and keep ‘em peeled, just in case any big buxom “models” stagger your way. Oh, and if I should die, remember this of me… That, probably, without a doubt, I went out screaming!

You ain’t seen me, right?

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Waltzing Matilda

It would appear that I am somewhat massive down under.
No, now stop that, that’s not what I meant at all and you know it… But thanks anyway.
No, what I meant is that I seem to be very popular amongst our Antipodean cousins! Perhaps, in me, they see something of a replacement at last for the legend that was Paul Hogan? Or Castlemaine 4X? He could tell a great joke, Castlemaine 4X. Not as funny as Fosters maybe, but, nevertheless, funny enough to have you rolling around the aisles with your sides aching; it made up somewhat for the fact that it tasted shit! Crocodile Dundee wasn’t too bad either: “That’s not a knife… This is a knife!” See, pissing yourself, aren’t you? Or have you just had too much 4X?
According to the stats WordPress so kindly provide regarding every posting I make, over the last few days they have shown that I have had 50-odd viewings and 5 comments from here in good old Blighty, thanks Mum, 17 viewings from the States, mostly from those incarcerated within their Penitentiaries – I always said that they were a discerning lot despite insisting on leaving the bosom of our great Colony – 7 viewings from South Africa, of which only 2 appear to be searching predominantly for free porn, 2 from India just yesterday, hurray!, and a whopping 23 from Australia!!!! Twenty bloody three! And they can’t all be from my mate Ali, surely? He doesn’t like me that much.
Who would have thought it, though? Who would have thought that so many kangaroos can read? Not to mention of course, the odd… (I was going to add ‘Koala’ to the punchline right about there, but I suddenly realised that I couldn’t spell it – damn! And I can’t replace it with Dingo, because that would just be stupid. We all know that Dingo’s can’t read. They’re far too busy eating babies).
Perhaps I should arrange a World Tour? Take a live version of this utter drivel out on the road for my now numerous fans? See how far you can get on an out-of-date Oyster Card during a heatwave?
I can see it now. “Hello, Adelaide! Good evening, Perth!” Being told to “sod off!” by the whole of Sydney.