Pun-ishment

2008-09-10, 7:21 p.m.
Mornin� all! Just a little note or two this time around. Im short of time and there�s not much been happening.

First off, Me and L have been making plenty of those wretched �Always� adverts � you know the ones? Something to do with if you wear Always then no dodgem cars will fall out of your knickers, as far as I can see. Which has got to be a bonus, I guess, but they�re still a crap product for an equally crap couple of days/month. Anyways, the ads end with some syrup voiced moo, extolling me to �have a happy period�. Its quite the most moronic thing Ive ever heard.

So, me and the lovely L have taken to using that phrase a lot (particularly over the last two or three days. Ahem). He�s just gone upstairs for a shave and shower as he says that if he does I will want to give him a blowjob and THEN (and only then!) will he be able to make sure that I *looks sincere* �have a happy period�. He also said it as I was leaving for work this morning, �Bye sweetie! Drive carefully! Have a happy period!�. Im sure Im supposed to be offended but Ive fallen about laughing every single time.

Im a rubbish girl.


You know that spam protector thingy on d�land where you have to retype the two random words on the little screen? That�s odd isn�t it? Im guessing that it�s a US provider as sometimes the words are quite�ummm� regional. Ive had all kinds of combinations; adjectives, conjunctives, proper nouns. Sometimes they�re reasonably amusing � I had �existential bacon� the other day (which has got to be better than Clownmeat, eh poolagirl). But d�land surpassed itself today. I got Baganda MacKay

Psst *looks conspiratorial* Is that a real person? *looks relived. And smug* Thought not. I sooooooo want it to be, tho, don�t you? I think I may adopt that name as an alias. Baganda MacKay, the Glaswegian Tribal Chief crime fighting ninja pirate superhero. OH! And WHAT a costume! Kilt, claymore and Feathered head-dress! *gasp* I shall drum on my magic djembe and a swarm (flock?) of winged deep-fried Mars Bars will be unleashed on my enemies and clog up their arteries.

For the rest of this update you may only address me as Baganda. I shall sit on a throne ���.Ooh! Ooo! I have a joke about that! I�ll put it at the bottom so you can skip that bit if you like. Thank you.


On Friday, my friend at work is organising a 32 hour Sing Star singing marathon to raise money for the Multiple Sclerosis Society. The event starts at 7pm on Friday 12th and finishes at about 4am on Sunday 14th. My friend�s housemate has MS and the two of them spend plenty of time doing the ole Sing Star and making fools of themselves. They�ve got the complete set of songs available for SingStar (the last couple of discs came courtesy of Sony themselves, so this is a well-supported gig!) and are singing every track (with the help of many and several guest �artistes�, naturally!), including the Bollywood selection � with the help of the local Asian radio station - and have worked so hard to get newspaper and television coverage for what is, in the grand scheme of things, a tiny event in somebody�s house.

Im going along before it starts to do some vocal warm-up exercises with the first band of singers then me and Jooj and Treac are going to stay and murder sing a few tunes.

Links sometimes aren�t very clear in this stupid font, so if you want to find out more, or *looks winsome and hopeful* if you�d like to donate to this very worthwhile cause, please go to www.houseofsingstar.co.uk or click HERE and do what you can. Oh, if you do decide to donate, PLEASE don�t mention my d�land name in your message � there�s some things that are better left unsaid when it comes to workmates! My undying gratitude to anyone who feels able to make a contribution on this.



There were two tribal lords � one benign and one evil. The evil one kept waging war on the nice one � he ransacked his palace and stole the immense gold and marble coronation seat he found there. He took it back to his own palace, which was cleverly made from bunches of reeds and grasses, bound together (see, even tho he was an evil despot, he knew a sustainable local resource when he saw one).
Unfortunately, once he got it back to the palace, he found it didn�t really �go� with any of his other furnishings, which were all a bit more in the �rustic farmhouse� style, so he had his slaves carry it upstairs to the attic.
Meanwhile, the chief went downstairs to the great hall and started giving a speech about how brilliant a chief he was and how many of his enemies he�d killed and how all should quake before him��..when suddenly, the grass ceiling above him gave way from the immense weight of the coronation chair in the attic. The chair crashed down and squashed the chief flat, where he stood.
The moral of the story, girls and boys: People who live in grass houses, shouldn�t stow thrones.


Later
Baganda
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