V.E.N (Very Exciting News)

As you are no doubt aware I have not published my weekly blog for almost exactly a year. Fear not, for next week I return. And how I return!

As it will be exactly a year, next Friday, since my last entry I am celebrating with a bloggerversary. I have coined this word which will, no doubt, soon go viral but, remember, you heard it here first. 

What is a bloggerversary? Well, quite simply it is a single blog entry for a weekly blog which encompasses a full year's blogging material when the blogger has:

a) Forgotten to blog for a full year

b) Not been arsed to blog for a full year

c) A combination of a and b.

The rules of a bloggerversary however states that only one sentence for each week is permitted, therefore, in my case 52 sentences for 52 Fridays. 

Until next week then, adieu mes amis. The wait is almost over.

DISCLAIMER: At the time of going press the blogger (Adrian) is unsure of the maximum length allowed for one entry in Google Blogger, therefore this inaugural bloggerversary may have to be stretched out over a number of entries. Thank you.

Buy Now – Don't Pay Later

Okay, I've learnt my lesson. I should have bought it when I first saw it. 'It' was an old, battered, chipped, charming, wooden, character-laden desk tidy in the local antiques shop. It was only a tenner. I just thought, 'Perhaps I'll buy it next time.'

Today was next time and, of course, it had gone. Sold to someone more decisive than me. I'm not a materialistic person – I've never been beamed aboard the Starship Enterprise, for example – but I think that this particular item could have improved the quality of my desk life by a good 14%.

No more, I tell thee. From now on, I will have a '£10 impulse-buy-rule'. Anything a tenner or under, which takes my fancy will be instantly purchased; unless it's cheese. I'm trying to lose weight. Cheese really doesn't help.

My desk - a reconstruction

Sugar Caned

Someone came round today.
I asked them if they wanted a cuppa.
They replied, 'Yes please, milk and three sugars'.
I said to them, 'Blimey, do you want any tea in your sugar?'
I can be very cutting at times.

The Money Shot

£8 in one pence pieces

£10 in two pence pieces
£15 in five pence pieces
£25 in ten pence pieces
£30 in twenty pence pieces
Yep, it was that time of year again.

Ode To A Friend

I had no money for the pub
A friend called and said,
'Come to the pub'
I said,
'I have no money for the pub'
I ended up in the pub.

Halloween Be Thy Name

There were a few bonfire parties going on tonight but I didn't make it out to any of them. Last night, I was visited by trick-or-treaters; a woman and her three small children. They had taken me completely by surprise – I had nothing in – so other than offer them Oxo cubes or some Fennel tea, I had to plump for 'trick'.

Trust my luck it happened to be David Blaine's wife and kids. I'm just hoping they let me out of whatever I'm trapped in at some stage in the not too distant future.

Miracle In The Rucksack

We've all been there. You've a night out planned but you're as skint as a dodo. Foraging tactics are required: an almighty search throughout the house for discarded or forgotten about money: pockets, drawers, cupboards, couch crevices, plant pots, the cafetiere (you just never know). I searched all of these but to no avail. 

Desperate, I vaguely remembered putting some cash in my rucksack during the summer festivals. I feverishly dragged it out of the wardrobe and reached down into its inner pockets. Alas, I felt no coinage; just a lump of paper; but no ordinary lump of paper. What I took from those inner pockets rocked me back on to my haunches: fifty quid in notes. Fifty quid! I had no idea I'd left so much mazola in there. It felt like a miracle. And what a story! Not only did I have fifty quid but I imagine the film rights money I'll receive, once Paramount hear about this, will be astronomical.

Icke (page) Turner

An hour to kill in Oxford: that'll be a trip to Waterstones then and a good, long browse through David Icke's books. I've recently got into David in a kind of 'intrigued observer' way. I'm not for or against his views but we do both support Leicester City, so I suppose that makes us kindred spirits of sorts. 

I have to say though, 'David, sort your book cover designs out'. Naive typography, cliched iconography and Day-Glo New Age graphics. You're not going to appeal to the ignorant masses with these visual monstrosities.

Moving on to a lighter read, I stumbled across a book called The Little Book of Thunks. Basically, a compendium of beguiling questions that have no real answer. It tempted me but the £8.99 price was 99 pence out of my weekly book budget. Instead, I decided to make my own Thunks up:
Q: Why isn't egg a type of meat?
Q: If a polar bear, Zorro and The Holy Ghost had a fight who would win?
Q: Are brushes really daft?
Q: If David Icke is right, do we get a refund?

David, sort it out, David, David, sort it out