Hello Reeking Lums
I've just not two seconds ago learned that many marketing pictures of watches and clocks picture them at 0950 or 1410 because the position of the hands resembles a (rather angular) smiley face. That's like some kind of Swiss voodoo mind control that is.
Anyway, enough of that, I'm eager to relay a story to you that I heard a few Peroni nights ago. Are you sitting comfortably? Then I'll begin.
A friend of mine had been working in South Africa on a very demanding and stressful contract for a couple of years, after it was finished, he, lets call him John and his work mate, we shall call him....Marty, decided they would like to chill, recharge the batteries and go on a bit of an adventure. So they bought a jeep, loaded it up with supplies and drove off into the interior for 4 months, driving up to Mozambique, and across southern Central Africa all the way to Namibia and back again via the Cape and South Africa. It sounded brilliant, the tales of camping under the stars with lions roaring in the distance, the peculiar surprising people they met and the genuine hospitality and outrageous friendliness of your average Joe in Africa.
One night they pitched camp in Botswana somewhere, out in the country, miles from anywhere with a blanket of stars above them and the chirrup of a billion bugs for background music. They climbed into their tent and drifted off to sleep.
Through the night, John woke up for whatever reason and was contemplating the stars that could be seen through the fabric of the tent, a slight noise outside he took notice of, but wasn't alarmed as it was probably some creature or another sniffing around the camp, then he noticed the stars disappear above him and two gleaming white tusks loom over the tent, the lack of alarm turned to frozen shock. Elephants apparently get around very quietly for a big thing and some of them, in this case, a big bull, had wandered into camp and discovered the tent. It gave it a gentle little kick, John at this time thinking he's going to be crushed under a clumsy elephant didn't want to speak or shout or make any noise in case he was panicked into a stompy squashy retreat. Then it grabbed the top of the tent with its trunk and started to give it a bit of a shake, obviously trying to figure out what this thing was, John by this time couldn't contain himself..... marty, he whispered with no response, marty....marty.......MARTY....still no response to Johns increasingly frantic whispered alerts, Marty was obviously sound asleep. The elephant got bored and trudged off, disappoined probably, and that was that, until the morning and John saw all the elephant shit about the place. "At least when I show Marty this lot he'll believe my story" he thought. When Marty woke up he explained the happenings of the night before and said he couldn't believe he didn't feel the tent shaking or hear him calling his name. Marty said "I did", "what?" says John, "why didn't you respond?" Marty replies, "I thought you were masturbating and didn't want to embarrass you"? "What!", says John, "even though I'm calling your name in hushed little tones and the tents about to get shaken from its guy ropes, you still thought I was having a wank?", "er, Yup". I thought this was one of the funniest things I'd heard for like ages.
It was shortly after this, it may even have been the same night I had such a vivid memorable dream that I thought I should record it in some way, in case its a portent of future events, then I can say without doubt or fear of Derek Acorah calling me a fraud "I knew that was going to happen". I dreamt that Stonehenge was stolen. I was there, witnessing it, like the schoolboy hero in a boys own comic, hiding behind some gorse bushes in the dead of night watching as the blocks were lifted on to flat bed lorries and driven away. In my dream, I'm sure I had the inner conviction that it was at the behest of a Russian billionaire and he was going to re-erect them in his garden fortress. He got away with it too, next thing I remember was standing around in the morning with a local policeman, who looked uncannily like PC Murdoch, with his hat off, scratching his head and rubbing his chin wondering what had went on. If it happens, you heard it here first.
Another disappearing thing I thought about the other day is hunchbacks, you just don't see them around these days. We had one live over the road from us when I was growing up in the 70s/80s so perhaps I'm a bit more sensitive to them than the ordinary man in the street, not the ordinary man in our street of course, because they will be just as familiar with him as me. And when I think about it, we had one at work aswell back in the 90s. One came on the tube the other morning and it took me by some surprise, it was the first I'd seen for years.
I had a girlfriend once that told me she had a fear of dwarfs, i thought, well, that's not very debilitating, I mean, how many dwarfs do you see in the average day especially if you steer clear of Warhammer shops and are careful around pantomine season, then I left her flat and met one on the stairs, he lived in the same block, which I thought was a spectacular quirk of fate.
I've got more to tell, I went to Munich, drove a thousand miles in a mini-bus , I put on clowns makeup and wore new shoes that ate a good portion of my feet, I know how to control a runaway camel, but these tales can wait.
Lang may yer lum reek.
 |
| Meh, I'll have to see more before I believe it |
 |
| OH MY GOD!!! Its true The watch industry is controlling our free will with smiley watches |
One night they pitched camp in Botswana somewhere, out in the country, miles from anywhere with a blanket of stars above them and the chirrup of a billion bugs for background music. They climbed into their tent and drifted off to sleep.
Through the night, John woke up for whatever reason and was contemplating the stars that could be seen through the fabric of the tent, a slight noise outside he took notice of, but wasn't alarmed as it was probably some creature or another sniffing around the camp, then he noticed the stars disappear above him and two gleaming white tusks loom over the tent, the lack of alarm turned to frozen shock. Elephants apparently get around very quietly for a big thing and some of them, in this case, a big bull, had wandered into camp and discovered the tent. It gave it a gentle little kick, John at this time thinking he's going to be crushed under a clumsy elephant didn't want to speak or shout or make any noise in case he was panicked into a stompy squashy retreat. Then it grabbed the top of the tent with its trunk and started to give it a bit of a shake, obviously trying to figure out what this thing was, John by this time couldn't contain himself..... marty, he whispered with no response, marty....marty.......MARTY....still no response to Johns increasingly frantic whispered alerts, Marty was obviously sound asleep. The elephant got bored and trudged off, disappoined probably, and that was that, until the morning and John saw all the elephant shit about the place. "At least when I show Marty this lot he'll believe my story" he thought. When Marty woke up he explained the happenings of the night before and said he couldn't believe he didn't feel the tent shaking or hear him calling his name. Marty said "I did", "what?" says John, "why didn't you respond?" Marty replies, "I thought you were masturbating and didn't want to embarrass you"? "What!", says John, "even though I'm calling your name in hushed little tones and the tents about to get shaken from its guy ropes, you still thought I was having a wank?", "er, Yup". I thought this was one of the funniest things I'd heard for like ages.
It was shortly after this, it may even have been the same night I had such a vivid memorable dream that I thought I should record it in some way, in case its a portent of future events, then I can say without doubt or fear of Derek Acorah calling me a fraud "I knew that was going to happen". I dreamt that Stonehenge was stolen. I was there, witnessing it, like the schoolboy hero in a boys own comic, hiding behind some gorse bushes in the dead of night watching as the blocks were lifted on to flat bed lorries and driven away. In my dream, I'm sure I had the inner conviction that it was at the behest of a Russian billionaire and he was going to re-erect them in his garden fortress. He got away with it too, next thing I remember was standing around in the morning with a local policeman, who looked uncannily like PC Murdoch, with his hat off, scratching his head and rubbing his chin wondering what had went on. If it happens, you heard it here first.
Another disappearing thing I thought about the other day is hunchbacks, you just don't see them around these days. We had one live over the road from us when I was growing up in the 70s/80s so perhaps I'm a bit more sensitive to them than the ordinary man in the street, not the ordinary man in our street of course, because they will be just as familiar with him as me. And when I think about it, we had one at work aswell back in the 90s. One came on the tube the other morning and it took me by some surprise, it was the first I'd seen for years.
I had a girlfriend once that told me she had a fear of dwarfs, i thought, well, that's not very debilitating, I mean, how many dwarfs do you see in the average day especially if you steer clear of Warhammer shops and are careful around pantomine season, then I left her flat and met one on the stairs, he lived in the same block, which I thought was a spectacular quirk of fate.
I've got more to tell, I went to Munich, drove a thousand miles in a mini-bus , I put on clowns makeup and wore new shoes that ate a good portion of my feet, I know how to control a runaway camel, but these tales can wait.
Lang may yer lum reek.
