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For the past few days, I have been reading "Join Me" by Danny Wallace. A truly excellent read - its had me laughing out loud (my to Shells annoyance) - and has made me realise that I am very similar. I think the same, make the same comments as he does and therefore I am proud to announce that I am not mad.
"Wacky ideas and comments does not a madman make." Tudor Davies, 2005
Glad we got that cleared up (me not being mad), as it leaves me open to mention the rest of what I wanted to say:-
Apparently, Rupert the Bear has been sold and will be re-appearing on TV in a new computer animated guise. And I hate him. With a passion.
My reason for hating Rupert runs quite deep. It started when I was a kid. I was a strange lad and I had an imaginary friend who lived under the gas fire in the back room of the house (technically a dining room). His name was Saggity and he was made of twigs. Essentially he was the Rupert character "Raggerty", but different!
"So what?" you may be wondering. Well - Rupert killed my imaginary friend. We were in Street, shopping. Rupert stepped out from behind the front window of shop (you know, where the door is recessed) and threw a dart at Saggity, killing him instantly. I have been traumatised about that for many many years. Most of my closest friends and all my family know about the situation with Rupert, but I thought it was about time I shared it with the rest of you... as long as you dont take the piss out of me.
Which leads me nicely onto urination. If one can be lead "nicely" onto urination, of course.
Shell called me earlier from work and said that she desperately needed a wee, but it was too cold to leave the office and walk to the other building to use the loo. I advised her to grab a bottle and a funnel (both items I know are in the office she works in) and hey presto!
Anyway. Once, several years ago, I awoke in my bed and was busting for a wee. However, I was too drunk to make it to the toilet, so managed to convince my body that it could easily wait for a few more hours and went back to sleep. So back to sleep I went until I woke up a few hours later with chronic bladder pains. I was now in a situation that I had to move to the toilet, but moving would mean that urination would occur instantly - I'm sure you have all been in this situation. BUT I had a house guest at the time and he was currently occupying the bathroom!
Fortunately, I had an empty bottle of coke beside my bed - a 1.5lt Coke bottle - so in a moment of panic (expecting a surge any second all over the place) I grabbed the bottle, lined myself up as best as I could and let rip.
Ah - the relief. Thanks to a steady hand, I was managing to keep 100% of my stream directed into the bottle, so was managing quite nicely thankyou very much. Unfortunately, the bottle was filling up at a rate of knots and it started to look like I was going to need a 2ltr bottle. Which was .5ltr more than the bottle could contain!
So I managed to perform the difficult and painful task of pausing mid stream and holding it until the bathroom became free. Which I managed. With only a small amount of spillage. It was at this moment that I decided that I could really use have a funnel in the house, in case such a situation arose again.
It hasn't. And nor have I ever bought myself a funnel! What does that say about me?
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