BeingSilly.com

Fish giblets are making the creases in my socks appear randomly in the newspaper headlines. I’ve tried shining a flashlight on the base of my skull but it never seems to help.

I’m pretty sure the problem lies in the way the sausage meat is ground into the gravel using a wrench instead of the regulation grease nipple.

Traditions are all well and good but if you fail to adhere to the radio telephony protocols you’re bound to end up on the wrong train.

Any road up, it’s never a truly random event when you’ve got cheerleaders bouncing around the streets on hippity-hops shouting at the elderly residents who are happily skinny dipping in the local brewery.

Some people reckon this blog is written by a machine, but I can assure you it’s written by an idiot.

Eating sawdust is much less fun than it seems. I mean, sure, it looks like something astronauts might do while they’re playing hopscotch on the surface of the congealed custard, but believe me when I tell you it’s a chore.

Don’t even go there girlfriend.

You may well have an opinion on the subject of old duck’s legs but it hardly constitutes a convincing argument when it comes to lagging your pipes in the winter. So as you can see eating sawdust gets you absolutely nowhere

Leave the sawdust eating to whales and albino moles. Their physiology is set up to deal with it. It’s why they have an extra testicle and a TV implanted in their amigdala.

I suggest you get a tattoo of a vacuum cleaner on you cactus and have done with it.

“A dog snot latte please”, said the voice in my spectacles case. As you can tell, this was no ordinary day. I’d been visited by none other that the King of Sherwood Forest, the Rt Reverend Oliver Clothesoff.

Before I could even utter a reply, my left eye fell out onto my high heeled sneakers and I was left in a quandary about how best to break off my engagement to the albatross beak I use to stir my coffee.

Never let it be said that I refuse to shave before kissing a woman on the elbow. I have always observed the highest levels of decorum when it comes to matters of bony protuberances.

On a final note it’s always a pleasure to see the cast of Prisoner Cell Block H reunited for a binge drinking weekend on the Costa Fortuna, or something.

It was first thing this morning when I first saw that pumpkins had taken over my lawn furniture. They had marched on there with rifles and tweezers quoting Tolstoy. What happened next is something of a mystery but somehow they stole all the money out of my wallet and bought KFC for all my neighbors.

Fortunately for me the chicken repeated on me and I defeated the pumpkin army by belching a lungfull of KFC breath all over them.

If this ever happens to you, go to the nearest emergency exit and flag down a passing Rhino.

When the sky has fallen in and Chicken Little is running around like a headless lawyer you instantly reach for your cordless drill. There’s really nothing you can do about it when the radar is making brick noises. All you can do is cordless drill the living daylights out of your microphone stand.

Let me make my position on this subject clear: It’s not the duck with one leg who’s driving the reptile, it’s the birthmark on my door handle.

I have much more to say on the subject of life coaches who turn evil but for now I’m just going to paint goldfish.

Don’t look into the light when elves are at the controls of a motorised toothpick. If you do, then I can only offer you this advice: Remote controls are usually made of diamonds, and so they’re dishwasher safe.

What are the chances of an alien eating Gorgonzola cheese with adjustable wrenches? Whenever I’ve been present in the Post Office and there’s a snake on the bed, it’s never a question of whether lizards wear boots or nail polish.

You can follow my lead and postpone the usual injection of engine into a coat hanger.

Easy!

It’s usually just after midnight when I first get the urge to use Lego to download my hippopotamus into the fridge. It never ceases to amaze me that with one megabit of cheese the moon always shines jagged on a bus full of German linebackers.

In the end the giant Lego cricket bat came in useful for stirring the soup and I couldn’t help but notice the chisel in the rock face. I spent the best part of an hour laughing at all the newspapers piled up in my fountain and I knew it was the right time to ask Lego star wars characters to come to dinner.

On the menu was roast wicker chairs, with mashed brick dust, and green toothpaste. For dessert we smeared our windshield with origami button holes and ran to the local barge doctor.

The Lego got everywhere until we finally managed to read the small print on a box of frogs.

That was one mad Lego insect repellant, I can tell you.

Whenever I see flashing neon mushrooms I feel like my head is about to take a midget prisoner on a wild ride in a juice monkey. My headache comes back when I wash the dishes and lick the gravel up from the internet. Headaches can be a real turning point in the daily routine of a beetle or indeed a world war 2 airship.

The last headache I went to see was in 2005 when president Bush was entertaining a giant tangerine in a two-man ridge tent. It was like he never even knew me but we all know that headaches bring out the worst in tinned meat.

If you suffer from headaches and spelling mistakes, don’t worry, you can always go to the laundry and buy a new knitting needle.

Remember, it’s never too late to let headaches wear a seat belt.

It’s never cool when the grass in your socks grows higher than a duck’s cuff-links. What you really need is a frying pan to help you balance work and home life. It’s essential to resist the temptation to walk the goldfish in the library next to the big stack of alien dung.

A frying pan can be very useful in this respect especially on Wednesdays when the blue tablecloth is piloting the space shuttle.

I highly recommend toast as a substitute for cow’s udders in the manufacture of pixie wishes.

Get a frying pan if you want to understand the laws of tree stump and by all means throw your reading glasses into the dolphin eye bank.

Silly Billy Big Bollocks

Sitting In The Sun

Got Burnt On His Scrotum

And Burnt On His Bum

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