"Here Arthur, here's one for the front page. 'Little green man on little green scooter spotted in Islington'... I ask you, you'd think they’d have more things to worry about than little green men, what with the disappearance of all those people, of course I say people, they were advertising executives but then we can't hold that against them can we – well of course we can't, they’ve vanished... oh, sorry, I didn’t realise you were on the phone..."
"Agatha, Agatha, are you there?" said Arthur, but the phone remained resolutely unresponsive.
Sunday, December 31, 2006
Sunday, December 10, 2006
a woeful tale
"where are my sandles gone!?"
dear Zobe wails
distress well displayed
on her face.
"have you seen my sandles,
billy bob jones?"
"no, ma'am,
they've left not a trace."
"i lent them to you, then,
dear herman, my friend?"
"no, but i wish your young heart
i could mend."
"oh where will i find them?"
our Zobe girl cries,
where did i put them?
where do they hide?
look under your beds,
in the back of your fridge,
leave no stone unturned,
as long as you live,
for even this moment,
as homeward we go,
our Zo hath no sandles,
though she needs them so.
dear Zobe wails
distress well displayed
on her face.
"have you seen my sandles,
billy bob jones?"
"no, ma'am,
they've left not a trace."
"i lent them to you, then,
dear herman, my friend?"
"no, but i wish your young heart
i could mend."
"oh where will i find them?"
our Zobe girl cries,
where did i put them?
where do they hide?
look under your beds,
in the back of your fridge,
leave no stone unturned,
as long as you live,
for even this moment,
as homeward we go,
our Zo hath no sandles,
though she needs them so.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Henry the bat
Henry cast a sly glance around the room. This was before he remembered that, being a bat, he was in fact blind. He decided to ignore this minor hindrance. He was the main character in a story which would be mostly read by people. He was clearly going to be personified in their minds. So surely, reasoned Henry, he could borrow the eyesight of his human models?
Hoping that this sounded intelligent enough to convince the average reader, Henry cast a sly glance around the room.
This is what he saw:
One small aquarium by the big double doors;
Several institutional looking chairs;
A desk with hundreds of official looking bits of paper behind it;
Some tattered posters demonstrating the potentially horrific results of not brushing twice daily.
Henry knew all about these dangers. His orthodontist, Dr. Stone, had made sure of that. Dr. Stone was, incidentally, the reason that Henry was here. Much as he despised the man for ruining his smile and stealing his voice, he couldn’t just ignore what he knew. Dr. Stone was in mortal danger. And Henry was his only chance…
Hoping that this sounded intelligent enough to convince the average reader, Henry cast a sly glance around the room.
This is what he saw:
One small aquarium by the big double doors;
Several institutional looking chairs;
A desk with hundreds of official looking bits of paper behind it;
Some tattered posters demonstrating the potentially horrific results of not brushing twice daily.
Henry knew all about these dangers. His orthodontist, Dr. Stone, had made sure of that. Dr. Stone was, incidentally, the reason that Henry was here. Much as he despised the man for ruining his smile and stealing his voice, he couldn’t just ignore what he knew. Dr. Stone was in mortal danger. And Henry was his only chance…
Tuesday, December 05, 2006
Inspiration - Chapter 7
Groggily, the little green man with a water pistol’s thoughts swam into focus. His vision followed reluctantly as he replayed the last few minutes’ events in his head. They didn’t make any more sense second time round and he was just about to start on the third viewing when he heard groaning from behind him. Taking care not to make any noise or unnecessary movement, he turned his head to see the annoying human he’d hit with his first water pistol shot. She was lying face down on the ground in front of the very determined old lady who had attacked him. An Agatha Christie paperback appeared have taken on a life of its own and was trying to find a way around the prone body on the grass. Fearful that it could be part of a cunning plot by the stainless steel saucepans, the little green man with a water pistol edged across the grass towards the front of the house. Reaching the gate he picked himself up and sprinted around the house to the road where a little green scooter sat with the engine still running. Swearing profusely, the little green man with a water pistol gunned the little green scooter’s engine. Realising that he was just making it wet, he dropped the water pistol, jumped on the little green scooter and rode off up the road.
Sunday, November 12, 2006
Inspiration - Chapter 6
“Hi, I’m Agatha, pleased to meet you.”
“Nngnnghhhgnghgnn?”
“Hi, I’m Agatha, pleased to meet you.”
“Hnghgnngh gnghgnghn g ghhhgngng?”
That was what she loved about this planet, the stimulatingly high level of conversation. That’s why she’d stuck around so long. She tried one last time;
“Hi, I’m Agatha, pleased to meet you.”
“What? Who are you? Where am I?”
“Well, the who bit we’ve already covered, I’m Agatha,” sighed Agatha. “As for where you are, you’re face down on the back lawn of a house in Islington.”
“Oh,” said Belinda, “that explains why it’s so dark and I feel like I’ve got an ant up my nose.” Agatha waited patiently as she rolled over and sat up, blinking in the bright spring sunshine. A small colony of ants, relieved at the loss of this large obstacle from the route back to their nest went back to carrying away an Agatha Christie paperback.
“Look,” said the book’s author, “you’ve had a nasty shock and I shouldn’t be surprised if the saucepans inside have already got word of what’s happening, so it’s not safe for you here. You’d better come with me.”
Still looking utterly confused, Belinda got up to follow her before remembering to ask what on earth was going on.
“What on earth is going on?!” asked Belinda.
“Well not exactly on earth,” replied Agatha with a wry smile. “Come on, I’ll explain on the way.” And she hurried Belinda out of the garden to her waiting green scooter. But when she got to the front of ‘Dunadvertising’, the little green scooter had gone and in its place was a gently spinning water pistol.
(the earlier chapters are archived or here if you've forgotten what's going on!)
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Saturday, October 28, 2006
ch7) earlier 7.15pm
Walking through the beautiful garden, Zobe slipped and fell headfirst into a pile of balloons. She tried to get out, but all she could hear was that funny squeaky sound, and all she could see was pinkness. Every move just pushed her further down. After just a few moments of struggle she stopped, exhausted, and tried to think. Now that the balloons had grown silent she could hear other noises. Not the noises she’s been hearing in the garden though. There were voices. Laughing and talking. Excited voices. She tried to hear what they were saying, and was just about to call for help when something grabbed hold of her head and started to pull. Her feet were stuck, but whatever was pulling was determined. Zobe screamed as she came free and fell out of the pile of balloons. When she opened her eyes she saw a kindly face looking down at her.
Ellie smiles and picks Zobe up. “You’re late,” she says, “but no worries.”
She turns to watch the game, but only a moment later the balloon tower topples over.
Everyone laughs and Ellie shouts out, “I think that’s enough Jenga for the moment. Now that everyone’s here, how ‘bout a game of scrabble?”
Ellie smiles and picks Zobe up. “You’re late,” she says, “but no worries.”
She turns to watch the game, but only a moment later the balloon tower topples over.
Everyone laughs and Ellie shouts out, “I think that’s enough Jenga for the moment. Now that everyone’s here, how ‘bout a game of scrabble?”
Monday, October 23, 2006
ch8) later 7.30pm
“Now that everyone’s here, how ‘bout a game of scrabble?”
Nobody is massively keen on this idea, but the party is only just starting and they’re all feeling too polite to argue. So the scrabble sets come out and the guests get into groups of four to play. Zobe is with Ellie and two other ‘phants she doesn’t recognise. After a few moments she notices that she can make an eight-letter word! That’s pretty special, and she’d be getting rid of all her letters at once!
“H-U-N-T-S-M-A-N,” she says proudly, placing the letters down carefully. She begins to count up the score, and doesn’t notice the uncomfortable looks passing between the olifunts. Her next two goes aren’t a lot better (although she continues to be unaware that she is committing a faux-pas) as she spells out P-O-A-C-H-E-D and F-U-D-G-E. One of the other guests, who has decided to play scrabble phonetically, spells Z-I-L-O-F-O-N-E. Ellie is beginning to regret her suggestion, and her face begins to gradually redden. A few minutes later she snaps. Standing up to get everyone’s attention she says, just a little too brightly, “I think the hippos are wanting to go on the bopaline why don’t we join them?”
The elephiphants scramble excitedly to their feet. In the commotion Ellie pulls Zobe aside, looking serious…
Nobody is massively keen on this idea, but the party is only just starting and they’re all feeling too polite to argue. So the scrabble sets come out and the guests get into groups of four to play. Zobe is with Ellie and two other ‘phants she doesn’t recognise. After a few moments she notices that she can make an eight-letter word! That’s pretty special, and she’d be getting rid of all her letters at once!
“H-U-N-T-S-M-A-N,” she says proudly, placing the letters down carefully. She begins to count up the score, and doesn’t notice the uncomfortable looks passing between the olifunts. Her next two goes aren’t a lot better (although she continues to be unaware that she is committing a faux-pas) as she spells out P-O-A-C-H-E-D and F-U-D-G-E. One of the other guests, who has decided to play scrabble phonetically, spells Z-I-L-O-F-O-N-E. Ellie is beginning to regret her suggestion, and her face begins to gradually redden. A few minutes later she snaps. Standing up to get everyone’s attention she says, just a little too brightly, “I think the hippos are wanting to go on the bopaline why don’t we join them?”
The elephiphants scramble excitedly to their feet. In the commotion Ellie pulls Zobe aside, looking serious…
Monday, October 16, 2006
ch6) earlier 4.30pm
Licking her lips happily Zobe thanked Gladys again and walked towards the library. She pushed the revolving doors and stepped out the other side into a maze. Luckily it was only about 18 inches high so she found her way out quickly, jumped over the stream and hopped towards the manor house where an inspector was waiting for her.
“Professor Plum, left food red.”
She met him at the door and apologised for her lateness. The inspector looked grave and led her silently into the conservatory, where the body was found. Zobe put the wig on and thought hard.
“Miss Scarlet, right hand green.”
She walked, apparently aimlessly, around the room as the inspector watched her sceptically.
“Reverend Green, left hand blue.”
“Hmmm,” said Zobe.
“Mrs White, left foot red.”
She decided to have a look round the rest of the house and question some of the suspects, but after 20 minutes of this she still had no clue, so the narrator quietly slipped her a note. Zobe read this and ran back to the inspector.
“Colonel Cowardy Custard, right hand yellow.”
“It was Mrs. White, in the conservatory, with the piano!” she said, proudly.
“Mrs Peacock, tail feathers blue.”
Mrs. White looked up shocked from the twister mat and started shouting. “How dare you! What evidence have you got? I’ll call my lawyer! This is an absolute disgrace!” and other such exclamations.
Zobe said calmly, “I think, inspector, that you will find a piano in Mrs. White’s pocket, slightly damaged from the impact with the victim’s head.”
The inspector checked and by gum she was right! Another mystery solved. He threw the piano onto the couch as he handcuffed Mrs. White. As he left to take her to the station (they needed to catch the 18:32 to Exeter) he thanked Zobe for her help.
“You can go now, if you like. You’ve been a wonderful help.”
After he left she looked at the piano. It was pretty high quality, with genuine ivory keys. She slipped it in her pocket, hoping they wouldn’t need it for the investigation (also hoping that her eliphant friends at the party later wouldn’t see it), and went outside.
“Spider Malice, all eight feet blue.”
“Professor Plum, left food red.”
She met him at the door and apologised for her lateness. The inspector looked grave and led her silently into the conservatory, where the body was found. Zobe put the wig on and thought hard.
“Miss Scarlet, right hand green.”
She walked, apparently aimlessly, around the room as the inspector watched her sceptically.
“Reverend Green, left hand blue.”
“Hmmm,” said Zobe.
“Mrs White, left foot red.”
She decided to have a look round the rest of the house and question some of the suspects, but after 20 minutes of this she still had no clue, so the narrator quietly slipped her a note. Zobe read this and ran back to the inspector.
“Colonel Cowardy Custard, right hand yellow.”
“It was Mrs. White, in the conservatory, with the piano!” she said, proudly.
“Mrs Peacock, tail feathers blue.”
Mrs. White looked up shocked from the twister mat and started shouting. “How dare you! What evidence have you got? I’ll call my lawyer! This is an absolute disgrace!” and other such exclamations.
Zobe said calmly, “I think, inspector, that you will find a piano in Mrs. White’s pocket, slightly damaged from the impact with the victim’s head.”
The inspector checked and by gum she was right! Another mystery solved. He threw the piano onto the couch as he handcuffed Mrs. White. As he left to take her to the station (they needed to catch the 18:32 to Exeter) he thanked Zobe for her help.
“You can go now, if you like. You’ve been a wonderful help.”
After he left she looked at the piano. It was pretty high quality, with genuine ivory keys. She slipped it in her pocket, hoping they wouldn’t need it for the investigation (also hoping that her eliphant friends at the party later wouldn’t see it), and went outside.
“Spider Malice, all eight feet blue.”
Saturday, October 07, 2006
ch9) later 8.25pm
The elephiphants scramble excitedly to their feet. In the commotion Ellie pulls Zobe aside, looking serious.
She speaks quietly, not wanting to be overheard or cause any embarrassment. “Zobe… there’s something I really need to ask you.” She begins.
#Moi je joue
Moi je joue à joue contre joue…#
Zobe sees the frown on her face and motions for her to carry on. “Well…it’s just that…you know the wig you were wearing when you first got here? Well, it kind of belongs to Al. He loves that wig, and he couldn’t understand where it had gone earlier.”
#…Je veux jouer à joue contre vous
Mais vous, le voulez-vous?…#
She pauses for a second to fend off the crows trying to eat her tail, and continues in a whisper barely audible over the sound of the hippos’ mmbopalining and singing behind them. “What happened to it today? It looked so scraggy! Some people don’t understand, like we elephants do, that wigs need to be cared for properly. I hope you haven’t been maltreating it.”
#…De tout coeur
Je veux gagner ce coeur à Coeur…#
Zobe is shocked to her very core. “I just…I didn’t mean to…I just thought it was a friendly wig!” she sputters, “I had no idea it belonged to Al. But I didn’t mistreat it. Honestly, Ellie, you have to believe me!”
#…Vous connaissez mon jeu par coeur
Alors défendez-vous…#
Ellie looks sympathetic. “OK, she says. I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm. You’re just a bit of an idiot – it’s not your fault.” She sighs. “What did you do to it though?”
Zobe tried to explain, “It helped me to fight a snake. I didn’t force it to, or anything, it just did. And then it came with me the rest of the day as well. There was nothing horrible. I don’t know. Please forgive me.”
Ellie is bored of Zobe’s whining, so she says not to worry about it and goes to join Jean-Luc (the hippo who has been singing frenchily all the while) on the bopaline. All the elephants are stood around it, their tails and trunks held high. There are a few murmurs as Ellie joins them, but the mmbopalining carries on uninterrupted.
She shakes her head and sighs as she wanders towards them. “I’ve never seen so much conformity amongst ollypants,” she mutters…
She speaks quietly, not wanting to be overheard or cause any embarrassment. “Zobe… there’s something I really need to ask you.” She begins.
#Moi je joue
Moi je joue à joue contre joue…#
Zobe sees the frown on her face and motions for her to carry on. “Well…it’s just that…you know the wig you were wearing when you first got here? Well, it kind of belongs to Al. He loves that wig, and he couldn’t understand where it had gone earlier.”
#…Je veux jouer à joue contre vous
Mais vous, le voulez-vous?…#
She pauses for a second to fend off the crows trying to eat her tail, and continues in a whisper barely audible over the sound of the hippos’ mmbopalining and singing behind them. “What happened to it today? It looked so scraggy! Some people don’t understand, like we elephants do, that wigs need to be cared for properly. I hope you haven’t been maltreating it.”
#…De tout coeur
Je veux gagner ce coeur à Coeur…#
Zobe is shocked to her very core. “I just…I didn’t mean to…I just thought it was a friendly wig!” she sputters, “I had no idea it belonged to Al. But I didn’t mistreat it. Honestly, Ellie, you have to believe me!”
#…Vous connaissez mon jeu par coeur
Alors défendez-vous…#
Ellie looks sympathetic. “OK, she says. I’m sure you didn’t mean any harm. You’re just a bit of an idiot – it’s not your fault.” She sighs. “What did you do to it though?”
Zobe tried to explain, “It helped me to fight a snake. I didn’t force it to, or anything, it just did. And then it came with me the rest of the day as well. There was nothing horrible. I don’t know. Please forgive me.”
Ellie is bored of Zobe’s whining, so she says not to worry about it and goes to join Jean-Luc (the hippo who has been singing frenchily all the while) on the bopaline. All the elephants are stood around it, their tails and trunks held high. There are a few murmurs as Ellie joins them, but the mmbopalining carries on uninterrupted.
She shakes her head and sighs as she wanders towards them. “I’ve never seen so much conformity amongst ollypants,” she mutters…
Monday, October 02, 2006
ch5) earlier 3.20pm
“Good afternoon, dear,” said the old lady, “I don’t suppose you could help me across the road? I’m having a little difficulty. Not as quick as I once was.”
Zobe was a bit confused because there was absolutely no traffic on the road, but she didn’t want to make a fuss and agreed to help the old lady.
She introduced herself.
“Oh!” said the old woman, clapping her hands together in delight, “what a polite young lady you are! My name is Gladys. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Zobe contemplated the road for a moment and took Gladys’ hand. “Pawn to King Four,” she said (predictably) and watched as the black knight jumped forwards in response.
Trying to plan ahead, and to ignore the large chainsaws that the opposition’s bishops were wielding, she stretched to see across the board. It seemed that she was contemplating the board for hours, but finally she remembered a special set of moves that her uncle had taught her when she was very young. They were guaranteed to win any game of chess. She struggled to remember the name of the moves. Ah yes! That was it. The Tche-ts. Employing them with deadly skill, she worked her way around the board with Gladys, and in just a few minutes they were standing safely on the other side of the road.
“Thank you so much,” said Gladys, “let me buy you an ice cream.”
Zobe was very pleased. The day was warm and the journey to the manor house was turning out to be quite tiring. She accepted the offer graciously.
Gladys turned and walked a few steps along the pavement, where she started speaking to thin air, apparently ordering two choc-ices. Zobe was about to step in and explain that there was no shop there when Gladys came back, holding out an ice cream.
Zobe decided not to bother, and enjoyed her creamy ice.
Zobe was a bit confused because there was absolutely no traffic on the road, but she didn’t want to make a fuss and agreed to help the old lady.
She introduced herself.
“Oh!” said the old woman, clapping her hands together in delight, “what a polite young lady you are! My name is Gladys. I’m very pleased to meet you.”
Zobe contemplated the road for a moment and took Gladys’ hand. “Pawn to King Four,” she said (predictably) and watched as the black knight jumped forwards in response.
Trying to plan ahead, and to ignore the large chainsaws that the opposition’s bishops were wielding, she stretched to see across the board. It seemed that she was contemplating the board for hours, but finally she remembered a special set of moves that her uncle had taught her when she was very young. They were guaranteed to win any game of chess. She struggled to remember the name of the moves. Ah yes! That was it. The Tche-ts. Employing them with deadly skill, she worked her way around the board with Gladys, and in just a few minutes they were standing safely on the other side of the road.
“Thank you so much,” said Gladys, “let me buy you an ice cream.”
Zobe was very pleased. The day was warm and the journey to the manor house was turning out to be quite tiring. She accepted the offer graciously.
Gladys turned and walked a few steps along the pavement, where she started speaking to thin air, apparently ordering two choc-ices. Zobe was about to step in and explain that there was no shop there when Gladys came back, holding out an ice cream.
Zobe decided not to bother, and enjoyed her creamy ice.
Saturday, September 30, 2006
ch10) later 9pm
“I’ve never seen so much conformity amongst ollypants” she mutters.
“Well you all look the same to us too” retorts oily (boing! Says the bopaline)
“There’s only one of me,” snaps Zobe, snappily “of course I look the same”
“I look completely different” squeaks Greg, hoping desperately that someone will pay attention to him.
“Shutup, echidna,” shouts Phil, counting out the notes, “you shouldn’t even be here, echidna’s can’t join our club”
“Squeak” squeaks the mouse (although possibly not the same mouse as before).
“And you can shut it too!” – that’s Phil again
There is a pause as everybody replays the conversation in their heads, trying to spot what didn’t quite fit.
I’ve never seen so much conformity… I look completely different… shutup, echidna… squeak … you can shut it too… wait! That was it!
The air turns 7 and a half degrees cooler, the silence broken only by the sound of a whole host of uliphants screaming at the top of their trunks and trying to jump on a chair (the bopaline is still occupied by the hippos). The sickening thud of elliefants colliding as they all choose the same chair is rivalled by the horrifying crunch of the chair as it collapses under so many ollyfents. However, they both pale into insignificance next to the tiny whine of an echidna caught in the worst possible place.
No, not Milton Keynes.
“What are they doing here?” comes the muffled voice of Olly from beneath a pile of wrinkled grey elephant.
“Oh, I invited them,” says Zobe, “they’d been locked up in a cage by some nasty people and were all lonely. I thought they could use a good party.”
“We know they were locked up,” replies Phil in a muffled roar, “we locked ‘em up there!”
“Squeak!” says a mouse, who is definitely neither of the mice who had squeaked already.
“I think there’s scope for some more randomness in this story,” says Ben.
“Always scope for more randomness” replies Jude
“What are you doing here?” asks Gimli.
“You can talk,” says Ben, “the mice have eaten you.”
“Squeak squeak!” squeaks a mouse, squeaking twice in case he doesn’t get another turn.
“Oh, good point,” replies Ben, “I haven’t written that part yet.
“ ,“ says Gimli, who has just caught up with the story and been eaten by the mice.
“Oh dear” says Zobe, “what have I done! I didn’t realise the mice were so evil!”
“We tried telling everybody” comes the still muffled voice of Olly, “but they never listen. Keep calling us scaredy-cats.”
“I’m a scaredy-cat,” squeaks a tiny voice from the corner of the room.
“Squeak” barks a mouse who’s already squeaked (although I’m not sure which one).
“Aaaaaarrrgh” screams the scaredy-cat timidly as it bolts from the room.
“ ,“ says Gimli, who isn’t adjusting well to having been eaten by evil mice.
“What’s that you say Gimli?” says Jude, “you have a rather frugal option for getting rid of mice that an old farmer told you about and it really does work? Did you say to use instant mashed potatoes, as they are much cheaper and a lot safer than rat poisons? We should place a few tablespoons where the mice are seen most often; try to keep them out of reach of the dog, just to be safe. The mice will eat the instant potatoes and die because the potatoes will expand in their stomachs before they can fully digest them? That’s an excellent suggestion!”
“I’ll get on with that whilst the story goes on,” says Ben.
“It’s ok Zobe,” says Phil, more gently, as he finally extricates (ooh look! big word!) himself from the heap of elephants. “We know you weren’t trying to upset us, we’ll forgive you.”
“Oh thank you,” says Zobe.
“That reminds me,” says Oily, “I’ve got a letter here addressed to Zobe wan Gavinci – any relation?”
“That’s me!” cries Zobe, forgetting to wonder what it is about the phrase “oh thank you” that reminded Oily about a letter.
Oily hands the letter over and Zobe eagerly rips it open. “You have won second prize in a beauty contest, do not pass goats, do not collect 200 llama points,” she reads, her jaw dropping in amazement. Well, it would do if she had a working jaw and not just a balloon head.
“In which case, I think we’d better get on with the SSAB prize ceremony” says Ellie, who hasn’t spoken recently because I’d forgotten her name. They sat down and Phil started the ceremony. Zobe fell asleep for a while and dreamed about pencil cases. When she woke up Phil was introducing a prize:
“In recognition of extreme bravery in the face (or whole body) of descending elephants, we’re letting our first echidna into the society. I know this is a little radical, but I feel we need to move with the times. So let’s have a big round of applause for Greg, a new member of the society. We have a special welcome balloon for you Greg…”
“Well you all look the same to us too” retorts oily (boing! Says the bopaline)
“There’s only one of me,” snaps Zobe, snappily “of course I look the same”
“I look completely different” squeaks Greg, hoping desperately that someone will pay attention to him.
“Shutup, echidna,” shouts Phil, counting out the notes, “you shouldn’t even be here, echidna’s can’t join our club”
“Squeak” squeaks the mouse (although possibly not the same mouse as before).
“And you can shut it too!” – that’s Phil again
There is a pause as everybody replays the conversation in their heads, trying to spot what didn’t quite fit.
I’ve never seen so much conformity… I look completely different… shutup, echidna… squeak … you can shut it too… wait! That was it!
The air turns 7 and a half degrees cooler, the silence broken only by the sound of a whole host of uliphants screaming at the top of their trunks and trying to jump on a chair (the bopaline is still occupied by the hippos). The sickening thud of elliefants colliding as they all choose the same chair is rivalled by the horrifying crunch of the chair as it collapses under so many ollyfents. However, they both pale into insignificance next to the tiny whine of an echidna caught in the worst possible place.
No, not Milton Keynes.
“What are they doing here?” comes the muffled voice of Olly from beneath a pile of wrinkled grey elephant.
“Oh, I invited them,” says Zobe, “they’d been locked up in a cage by some nasty people and were all lonely. I thought they could use a good party.”
“We know they were locked up,” replies Phil in a muffled roar, “we locked ‘em up there!”
“Squeak!” says a mouse, who is definitely neither of the mice who had squeaked already.
“I think there’s scope for some more randomness in this story,” says Ben.
“Always scope for more randomness” replies Jude
“What are you doing here?” asks Gimli.
“You can talk,” says Ben, “the mice have eaten you.”
“Squeak squeak!” squeaks a mouse, squeaking twice in case he doesn’t get another turn.
“Oh, good point,” replies Ben, “I haven’t written that part yet.
“ ,“ says Gimli, who has just caught up with the story and been eaten by the mice.
“Oh dear” says Zobe, “what have I done! I didn’t realise the mice were so evil!”
“We tried telling everybody” comes the still muffled voice of Olly, “but they never listen. Keep calling us scaredy-cats.”
“I’m a scaredy-cat,” squeaks a tiny voice from the corner of the room.
“Squeak” barks a mouse who’s already squeaked (although I’m not sure which one).
“Aaaaaarrrgh” screams the scaredy-cat timidly as it bolts from the room.
“ ,“ says Gimli, who isn’t adjusting well to having been eaten by evil mice.
“What’s that you say Gimli?” says Jude, “you have a rather frugal option for getting rid of mice that an old farmer told you about and it really does work? Did you say to use instant mashed potatoes, as they are much cheaper and a lot safer than rat poisons? We should place a few tablespoons where the mice are seen most often; try to keep them out of reach of the dog, just to be safe. The mice will eat the instant potatoes and die because the potatoes will expand in their stomachs before they can fully digest them? That’s an excellent suggestion!”
“I’ll get on with that whilst the story goes on,” says Ben.
“It’s ok Zobe,” says Phil, more gently, as he finally extricates (ooh look! big word!) himself from the heap of elephants. “We know you weren’t trying to upset us, we’ll forgive you.”
“Oh thank you,” says Zobe.
“That reminds me,” says Oily, “I’ve got a letter here addressed to Zobe wan Gavinci – any relation?”
“That’s me!” cries Zobe, forgetting to wonder what it is about the phrase “oh thank you” that reminded Oily about a letter.
Oily hands the letter over and Zobe eagerly rips it open. “You have won second prize in a beauty contest, do not pass goats, do not collect 200 llama points,” she reads, her jaw dropping in amazement. Well, it would do if she had a working jaw and not just a balloon head.
“In which case, I think we’d better get on with the SSAB prize ceremony” says Ellie, who hasn’t spoken recently because I’d forgotten her name. They sat down and Phil started the ceremony. Zobe fell asleep for a while and dreamed about pencil cases. When she woke up Phil was introducing a prize:
“In recognition of extreme bravery in the face (or whole body) of descending elephants, we’re letting our first echidna into the society. I know this is a little radical, but I feel we need to move with the times. So let’s have a big round of applause for Greg, a new member of the society. We have a special welcome balloon for you Greg…”
Sunday, August 20, 2006
interlude
out of the leerdammer pops a head. a ginger head (with a ginger beard and everything).
it peers around and is lifted out further, followed by shoulders and arms and kilted legs.
Hamish MacDougall stands tall, holds the bagpipes nervously to his lips and blows. they emit an excruciatingly high squeal, and he hastily stops.
"och noo," he mutters, "tha's not the player tha' used to be, MacDougall"
"did you call?" asks Nu Nu, hovering above the cheese
"noo i di'nay call no elephant," replies Hamish.
"you just did it again,"
"noo"
"and again"
Hamish is not a man to be messed with. He is a bagpipe player with perfect pitch. He picks up Nu Nu and hurls him into the duck pond. Turning away he rubs his hands together. "tha'll ta'ch im tae muss wi' 'a harra' crum'bli'n scoot lach mon hoots ya wee sassenach."
it peers around and is lifted out further, followed by shoulders and arms and kilted legs.
Hamish MacDougall stands tall, holds the bagpipes nervously to his lips and blows. they emit an excruciatingly high squeal, and he hastily stops.
"och noo," he mutters, "tha's not the player tha' used to be, MacDougall"
"did you call?" asks Nu Nu, hovering above the cheese
"noo i di'nay call no elephant," replies Hamish.
"you just did it again,"
"noo"
"and again"
Hamish is not a man to be messed with. He is a bagpipe player with perfect pitch. He picks up Nu Nu and hurls him into the duck pond. Turning away he rubs his hands together. "tha'll ta'ch im tae muss wi' 'a harra' crum'bli'n scoot lach mon hoots ya wee sassenach."
ch04) earlier 2.30 pm
Through the stillness of the wood there came a haunting melody, the sound of someone playing a pipe. Zobe was mesmerized. She walked along the path in a daze, trying to work out where the music was coming from. The mice and Gimli followed, equally overcome by its beauty.
Soon they came out of the woods and to some rolling hills. They could still hear the music, and as they were starting to walk up the hill they met a leerdammer (Dutch cheese with holes) “over die heuvels!” he shouted, “en verre van hier!”
“Exactly!” replied Zobe, trying to make the newcomer feel welcome, “more uber those herbles indeedy!”
They reached the top of the hill, still pursuing (trivially) that remarkable music. Zobe could see the music makers.
She whipped out her ironing board and surfed down the hill after the teletubbies. But alas, she never quite reached them. A freak wave washed her eastwards and set her down many miles away, still clutching the wig, next to a kindly old lady. The leerdammer, the mice, Gimli and the pied Tubbies of Hamelin were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they were all together somewhere and had decided to set up a traveling circus. We’ll never know.
“Hello.” Said the tortoise, “I’m supposed to add comedy value. Apparently. Don’t see it, myself. I mean, sure, you’d think crazy talking tortoises would be funny, wouldn’t you? But what if I don’t want to be funny? I don’t know. My cousins could all do it. They’d add fun to any story. But not me. I’d rather just sit at home and read the papers. Sad, isn’t it?”
It should be pointed out about now that Shelly, the crazy talking tortoise, has no real role in this story. Just in case you were wondering. She is merely being added to distract from the *plot* (or lack thereof). She will not, rest assured, turn up later in an unexpectedly key role. There is nothing whatsoever to read into her gibbering. Or if there is, it’ll be a real surprise now, won’t it!?
Squeak
Soon they came out of the woods and to some rolling hills. They could still hear the music, and as they were starting to walk up the hill they met a leerdammer (Dutch cheese with holes) “over die heuvels!” he shouted, “en verre van hier!”
“Exactly!” replied Zobe, trying to make the newcomer feel welcome, “more uber those herbles indeedy!”
They reached the top of the hill, still pursuing (trivially) that remarkable music. Zobe could see the music makers.
She whipped out her ironing board and surfed down the hill after the teletubbies. But alas, she never quite reached them. A freak wave washed her eastwards and set her down many miles away, still clutching the wig, next to a kindly old lady. The leerdammer, the mice, Gimli and the pied Tubbies of Hamelin were nowhere to be seen. Maybe they were all together somewhere and had decided to set up a traveling circus. We’ll never know.“Hello.” Said the tortoise, “I’m supposed to add comedy value. Apparently. Don’t see it, myself. I mean, sure, you’d think crazy talking tortoises would be funny, wouldn’t you? But what if I don’t want to be funny? I don’t know. My cousins could all do it. They’d add fun to any story. But not me. I’d rather just sit at home and read the papers. Sad, isn’t it?”
It should be pointed out about now that Shelly, the crazy talking tortoise, has no real role in this story. Just in case you were wondering. She is merely being added to distract from the *plot* (or lack thereof). She will not, rest assured, turn up later in an unexpectedly key role. There is nothing whatsoever to read into her gibbering. Or if there is, it’ll be a real surprise now, won’t it!?
Squeak
Thursday, July 20, 2006
ch11) later 10pm
“…for Greg, a new member of the society. We have a special welcome balloon for you Greg! This year’s design is, I think you’ll agree, one of the most interesting we’ve ever had. The salmon pink and the mint go so beautifully together. Come on up, Greg.”
To deafening applause Greg walks to the front to receive his balloon.
“Congratulations!
“We are also awarding the second prize in our beauty contest - the mesmerising memorial balloon for services to beauty – to Zobe.”
Zobe blushes and hurries to the front. Treading in something warm and squishy, Zobe realizes with regret that she neglected to put on any shoes today.
“Treasure it most carefully and let it bask in your beauty. Truly this is the most amazing balloon ever.”
“So what was the first prize then, if this is the most amazing balloon ever?” asks Zobe.
Confused, the alifonts look at each other. “We’ve never actually awarded a first prize,” mutters Phil, shuffling self-conciously.
There is an awkward silence.
“And for everybody here today we have a golden SSAB (secret society for the appreciation of balloons) 20th anniversary balloon. These really are something else.”
He hands out the shiny balloons with glee. There is a lot of pushing and shoving and treading on each others' feet. But eventually it seems that everyone has one.
“OK!” shouts Phil, over the chattering, “it’s time for the jelly and ice cream. Who wants?”
To deafening applause Greg walks to the front to receive his balloon.
“Congratulations!
“We are also awarding the second prize in our beauty contest - the mesmerising memorial balloon for services to beauty – to Zobe.”
Zobe blushes and hurries to the front. Treading in something warm and squishy, Zobe realizes with regret that she neglected to put on any shoes today.
“Treasure it most carefully and let it bask in your beauty. Truly this is the most amazing balloon ever.”
“So what was the first prize then, if this is the most amazing balloon ever?” asks Zobe.
Confused, the alifonts look at each other. “We’ve never actually awarded a first prize,” mutters Phil, shuffling self-conciously.
There is an awkward silence.
“And for everybody here today we have a golden SSAB (secret society for the appreciation of balloons) 20th anniversary balloon. These really are something else.”
He hands out the shiny balloons with glee. There is a lot of pushing and shoving and treading on each others' feet. But eventually it seems that everyone has one.
“OK!” shouts Phil, over the chattering, “it’s time for the jelly and ice cream. Who wants?”
Monday, July 10, 2006
ch03) earlier 12.00pm
In square 41 she found herself outside of a police station, facing a flustered looking detective. Who, unusually, suddenly brightened up at the sight of Zobe.
“’Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello,” he said, “ it’s not often one sees a lovely young lady walking around such a fetching pet wig. I don’t suppose you’d be available this afternoon to help the police a bit?”
Zobe considered all the things she had planned to do with her day. Things like wandering round aimlessly and shouting at pigeons.
She decided to sacrifice this day of fun to help protect her fellow man.
“I’ll do it!” she said. The detective told her there had been a murder at the manor house, and gave her directions and a map! (no corners cut in this story!)
Zobe and her wig smiled at the detective and promised to do their best. They set off together with an air of adventure and excitement around them.
After going the second left, first right, right at the traffic lights, left by the big tree, round the roundabout, across the river (without a bridge or a boat), along the third fork and right into the wood… Zobe spotted something very worrying. There was a strange contraption just at the side of the road. With a slight sense of foreboding, Zobe decided to investigate.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed, “you poor things!”
The mice were just skin and bone, trapped for weeks, it seemed, in these tiny cages. Zobe tried to get lift the cages but there was a complicated locking mechanism. She walked around, hoping to find a clue (‘cos she didn’t have one) and, much to her surprise, found Gimli trapped in one of the cages, his axe thrown into a nearby bush. Zobe picked it up and with great strength and even greater accuracy cut through the cage and set the dwarf free. He was not as thankful as one might have expected. But he did help Zobe to get the mice out. She did not use the axe to cut them loose. That would have been too easy. Instead, she and Gimli constructed a highly elaborate device from an old stop sign, a boot, a bucket, a drainpipe, a helping hand, a crank, a diving board and diver, a gutter, a staircase and a ball bearing.
Having realised too late that they had walked straight into a trap, they used Gimli’s laser beam eyesight to cut their way free and let the mice out too.
Quite why Gimli had sat in the cage for such a long time when he had laser beam eyesight nobody is sure. Perhaps he just wanted to meet Zobe. And who could blame him, she’s such a lovely balloon-headed doll.
“’Ello, ‘ello, ‘ello,” he said, “ it’s not often one sees a lovely young lady walking around such a fetching pet wig. I don’t suppose you’d be available this afternoon to help the police a bit?”
Zobe considered all the things she had planned to do with her day. Things like wandering round aimlessly and shouting at pigeons.
She decided to sacrifice this day of fun to help protect her fellow man.
“I’ll do it!” she said. The detective told her there had been a murder at the manor house, and gave her directions and a map! (no corners cut in this story!)
Zobe and her wig smiled at the detective and promised to do their best. They set off together with an air of adventure and excitement around them.
After going the second left, first right, right at the traffic lights, left by the big tree, round the roundabout, across the river (without a bridge or a boat), along the third fork and right into the wood… Zobe spotted something very worrying. There was a strange contraption just at the side of the road. With a slight sense of foreboding, Zobe decided to investigate.
“Oh no!” she exclaimed, “you poor things!”
The mice were just skin and bone, trapped for weeks, it seemed, in these tiny cages. Zobe tried to get lift the cages but there was a complicated locking mechanism. She walked around, hoping to find a clue (‘cos she didn’t have one) and, much to her surprise, found Gimli trapped in one of the cages, his axe thrown into a nearby bush. Zobe picked it up and with great strength and even greater accuracy cut through the cage and set the dwarf free. He was not as thankful as one might have expected. But he did help Zobe to get the mice out. She did not use the axe to cut them loose. That would have been too easy. Instead, she and Gimli constructed a highly elaborate device from an old stop sign, a boot, a bucket, a drainpipe, a helping hand, a crank, a diving board and diver, a gutter, a staircase and a ball bearing.
Having realised too late that they had walked straight into a trap, they used Gimli’s laser beam eyesight to cut their way free and let the mice out too.
Quite why Gimli had sat in the cage for such a long time when he had laser beam eyesight nobody is sure. Perhaps he just wanted to meet Zobe. And who could blame him, she’s such a lovely balloon-headed doll.
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
ch12) later 10.40pm
“OK!” shouts Phil, “it’s time for the jelly and ice cream. Who wants?”
Alliefonts are ice cream loving fools, so everyone at the party leaps up at these words and rushes towards Al, who is standing by the freezer. He opens the door and gasps, “the ice cream has gone!”
Phil turns to the crowd with a thunderous expression on his face.
“Who has eaten ice cream today without asking?” he demands. “It must be someone we know or the ice cream princess would not have taken the sacrifice from our freezer. Own up!!!”
There is nothing to be heard except the sound of shuffling feet and a few nervous coughs. Eventually Zobe steps forwards.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, shakily, “I don’t understand. I don’t know anything about an ice cream princess… But I did eat some ice cream today. It was given to me by an old lady today called Gladys.”
“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK THAT NAME!!!!” cries Phil, but on seeing that her confusion is genuine he tries to explain. “We elephants are the keepers of the ice cream, and the woman of whom you speak is our arch enemy. You are a silly child to be taken in by her.”
He pauses for a moment and his face softens. “But you did not know,” he says, “and you seem sorry now. Do not make the same mistake again.”
He turns away, and without another word Al starts serving up dishes of jelly. No one grumbles, and they sit down together to enjoy the end of the party. The balloons have all gone slightly limp and wrinkly (a bit like the elifants) but no one has really noticed. The sun is still hot and the jelly is wibbling peacefully…
Alliefonts are ice cream loving fools, so everyone at the party leaps up at these words and rushes towards Al, who is standing by the freezer. He opens the door and gasps, “the ice cream has gone!”
Phil turns to the crowd with a thunderous expression on his face.
“Who has eaten ice cream today without asking?” he demands. “It must be someone we know or the ice cream princess would not have taken the sacrifice from our freezer. Own up!!!”
There is nothing to be heard except the sound of shuffling feet and a few nervous coughs. Eventually Zobe steps forwards.
“I’m so sorry,” she says, shakily, “I don’t understand. I don’t know anything about an ice cream princess… But I did eat some ice cream today. It was given to me by an old lady today called Gladys.”
“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK THAT NAME!!!!” cries Phil, but on seeing that her confusion is genuine he tries to explain. “We elephants are the keepers of the ice cream, and the woman of whom you speak is our arch enemy. You are a silly child to be taken in by her.”
He pauses for a moment and his face softens. “But you did not know,” he says, “and you seem sorry now. Do not make the same mistake again.”
He turns away, and without another word Al starts serving up dishes of jelly. No one grumbles, and they sit down together to enjoy the end of the party. The balloons have all gone slightly limp and wrinkly (a bit like the elifants) but no one has really noticed. The sun is still hot and the jelly is wibbling peacefully…
Friday, June 23, 2006
ch02) earlier 10.30am
Zobe went downstairs and into the kitchen, closely followed by a small friendly cat called Mr. Kibbles. In the kitchen Zobe rolled the dice with eager anticipation, and much to her delight she found herself climbing up a ladder to number 34, having narrowly avoided a boa constrictor in number 32. She hadn’t yet noticed the Mexican grass snake occupying square 35, but we don’t need to worry about that for a little while.
She found an invitation on the billiards table:
“Do we need to establish that Ellie, Ollie, Oily et al. are elephantes?” inquired Ben.
“Yeh I guess so,” replies Judy, resigned now to the inevitable interruptions.
THEY ARE ELEPHANTS. It’s also useful to note at this point that all eliphants are balloon fanatics and have a network of secret balloon societies throughout the world. Balloons add meaning to an olifent’s life and are the reason they are usually so calm and peaceful.
“OK, it’s established….
“ooh, except that al isn’t an illyfunkt. He’s a croc!” exclaimed Judy.
“Oh yes, sorry,” said Ben, “easy mistake to make.”
This is true. Al is, after all, a master of disguise. It’s the wig that does it.
The wig, which is excitable even at the best of times, leapt up from Al’s head and into square 34 where it encountered Zobe. “Hello!” she said, “I’ve always wanted a pet!” she caught the wig and tied a lead onto it. The wig was not impressed, but its random flailings were very useful for fighting the snake in the next square, so Zobe could continue unafraid.
Squeak said the mice.
She found an invitation on the billiards table:
“Calling all balloons and balloon enthusiasts!
We are having a party today, and would love it if you could come.
Its at 7 o’clock in the zoo. Hope you can make it, lots of love from Ellie, Ollie, Oily and Phil.”
“Do we need to establish that Ellie, Ollie, Oily et al. are elephantes?” inquired Ben.
“Yeh I guess so,” replies Judy, resigned now to the inevitable interruptions.
THEY ARE ELEPHANTS. It’s also useful to note at this point that all eliphants are balloon fanatics and have a network of secret balloon societies throughout the world. Balloons add meaning to an olifent’s life and are the reason they are usually so calm and peaceful.
“OK, it’s established….
“ooh, except that al isn’t an illyfunkt. He’s a croc!” exclaimed Judy.
“Oh yes, sorry,” said Ben, “easy mistake to make.”
This is true. Al is, after all, a master of disguise. It’s the wig that does it.
The wig, which is excitable even at the best of times, leapt up from Al’s head and into square 34 where it encountered Zobe. “Hello!” she said, “I’ve always wanted a pet!” she caught the wig and tied a lead onto it. The wig was not impressed, but its random flailings were very useful for fighting the snake in the next square, so Zobe could continue unafraid.
Squeak said the mice.
Saturday, June 10, 2006
Sunday, June 04, 2006
ch13) later 10.50 pm
The balloons have all gone slightly limp and wrinkly (a bit like the elifants) but no one has really noticed. The sun is still hot and the jelly is wibbling peacefully. Al picks some albatross from his teeth. Zobe moves to straighten her dress and a piano falls out of her pocket. All eyes turn to her as she scrabbles in the dirt to retrieve it. Ollie walks forwards, with fire in his eyes, and she stands up slowly to look at him.
“You have offended us in every possible way today. we were willing to let it go on the basis of a long and happy friendship but this final insult cannot be forgotten. You have killed one of us, and now you must pay the pies.”
“But I don’t have any pies,” sobs Zobe.
“Then you must pay the ultimate price, which is what I actually meant to type in the first place,” he replies.
The others form a tight circle around them as Zobe hands over her special shimmery balloon. She falls face down to the floor, weeping pitifully.
Ollie’s foot rises up into the air, and a second later – BANG!!
Zobe’s head cracks against the concrete floor, and her body goes limp. The elephant turns and walks away…
“You have offended us in every possible way today. we were willing to let it go on the basis of a long and happy friendship but this final insult cannot be forgotten. You have killed one of us, and now you must pay the pies.”
“But I don’t have any pies,” sobs Zobe.
“Then you must pay the ultimate price, which is what I actually meant to type in the first place,” he replies.
The others form a tight circle around them as Zobe hands over her special shimmery balloon. She falls face down to the floor, weeping pitifully.
Ollie’s foot rises up into the air, and a second later – BANG!!
Zobe’s head cracks against the concrete floor, and her body goes limp. The elephant turns and walks away…
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
driving
things i saw whilst driving home today:a vertical rainbow. it wasn't just huge and very uncurvy*, it was just vertical stripes, as in the very artistic impression to the left.
a lorry driving down the hard shoulder. not in an emergency, not in trouble, just using it as an extra lane of the motorway.
one lorry taking 12 miles to overtake another lorry, causing a several hundred car tailback.
lane closed signs over a lane that didn't exist.
a wandering minstrel (it was one i dropped).
a deer.
well it livened up the journey, anyway.
--
*ok, it probably was, but that's not the point.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Very special day today!
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear Zoe
Happy birthday to you!!!!
Hip-hip Hooray
Hip-hip Hooray
Hip-hip Hooray
Happy birthday to you
Happy birthday dear Zoe
Happy birthday to you!!!!
Hip-hip Hooray
Hip-hip Hooray
Hip-hip Hooray
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
upset
it's also rather upsetting that my random throwaway 5-minute picture of the google homepage with the word ben very badly superimposed on it has garnered 8 comments, whilst the amazing first two installments of what is quite possible the best story ever written has elicited a grand total of none.
shame on you zobe, it's all your fault.
shame on you zobe, it's all your fault.
lost without you
i have left my mobile phone at home today. this was not a deliberate act and it is one that is causing me much trauma. just think of all the vitally important calls i must be missing. all those unanswered text messages just sitting there waiting for a reply. that comforting feeling of knowing that i am 'in touch', no matter where i am.
how am i going to cope?
funny to think that there was a time when we survived without mobile phones.
ring ring.
how am i going to cope?
funny to think that there was a time when we survived without mobile phones.
ring ring.
complaint
more people should be appreciating this story. actual effort went in to writing this one, but i'm not sure i'll bother to post the rest until someone (ie Zoe) reads it, comments on how wonderful it is and apologises for being so useless.
in the meantime i shall write a song about useless people:
zome people are zo uzeless
others are a little bit better
everybody's a bit useless though
....guess i'll just have to get over it.
in the meantime i shall write a song about useless people:
zome people are zo uzeless
others are a little bit better
everybody's a bit useless though
....guess i'll just have to get over it.
Monday, May 15, 2006
inspiration - chapter 5
Chapter 5
The escalators weren't halfway up or down themselves either. Or at least they were, but they were both at the same time, as well as being all the way up and all the way down, along with a little tiny bit of the way down and very near the bottom. What they thought on the matter of little green men with water pistols has yet to be recorded. But it was probably a short thought. And a metallic one too.
The escalators weren't halfway up or down themselves either. Or at least they were, but they were both at the same time, as well as being all the way up and all the way down, along with a little tiny bit of the way down and very near the bottom. What they thought on the matter of little green men with water pistols has yet to be recorded. But it was probably a short thought. And a metallic one too.
ch01) the beginning 9:30 am
Zobe woke up and stretched. Sunlight poured through the windows like lumpy custard, the sky was pale blue streaked with orange and purple and she could hear a gentle wind whispering in the trees. She tutted at the gossiping wind, and as she got out of bed thoughts flicked through her mind.
“Lovely weather for Frisbee”
“Should I wear the horizontally stripy socks or the vertically stripy socks?”
And, most importantly of all, “where did I put my hat?”
“Is it a big floppy hat?” asked Ben.
“Yes. And it has a big flower on it.”
“Definitely!”
Not so sure about this Judy decided to let Zobe have a finite hat. De-finite hats are fairly cumbersome and so last season.
Back to the story…
The anticyclonic conditions caused Zobe to feel light headed (I can justify this if you like. It does work with a little pseudo-physics) and she began to dance around the room.
By the way, she decided to wear one of each of the socks. And she did wear the hat, and may or may not decide to play Frisbee.
“Lovely weather for Frisbee”
“Should I wear the horizontally stripy socks or the vertically stripy socks?”
And, most importantly of all, “where did I put my hat?”
“Is it a big floppy hat?” asked Ben.
“Yes. And it has a big flower on it.”
“Definitely!”
Not so sure about this Judy decided to let Zobe have a finite hat. De-finite hats are fairly cumbersome and so last season.
Back to the story…
The anticyclonic conditions caused Zobe to feel light headed (I can justify this if you like. It does work with a little pseudo-physics) and she began to dance around the room.
By the way, she decided to wear one of each of the socks. And she did wear the hat, and may or may not decide to play Frisbee.
news
found something out today...
the existence of microwave ovens in a useable form is undeniable proof that the universe has a creator!
and even more excitingly, i get to dress Sanjeev up as a pirate with a glittery beard on friday. which i have been trying to do all year!
Saturday, May 13, 2006
ch14) you're gonna love us...
I’ve been thinking a lot recently. Mostly about albatrosses, it’s true, but that’s not really the point.
I’ve also been thinking about how Zobe is about to be trampled to death by an angry elephant…
enjoy.
THE END
Zobe’s head cracks against the concrete floor, and her body goes limp. The elephant turns and walks away.
There’s a whisper from the crowd, “he got the wrong balloon.”
“Whoops.” Breathes Ellie
Ollie turns round and looks embarrassed. “Well…” he says, “…Worse things happen at sea, eh?”
...to have been continued...
I’ve also been thinking about how Zobe is about to be trampled to death by an angry elephant…
enjoy.
Zobe’s good day
THE END
Zobe’s head cracks against the concrete floor, and her body goes limp. The elephant turns and walks away. There’s a whisper from the crowd, “he got the wrong balloon.”
“Whoops.” Breathes Ellie
Ollie turns round and looks embarrassed. “Well…” he says, “…Worse things happen at sea, eh?”
...to have been continued...
Monday, April 24, 2006
inspiration - chapter 4
Chapter 4
Agatha Christie wasn't halfway up or halfway down an escalator in Woolworths. She wasn't even in Woolworths. Not that she didn't like Woolworths, she often shopped there. She was especially partial to their two for the price of one offer on Mint Poppets. She couldn't abide the toffee ones though, her teeth weren't what they used to be. Still, that's what came of being over one thousand years old and having been born well before toothbrushes were invented.
As she sat soaking up the sun in the well appointed garden shed in Hampsted where she lived, she was startled by her telephone ringing. It was Arthur, her friend from the Telegraph who kept her up to date on the latest news.
"Hi Agatha", he said, "heard the latest news?"
"You mean the government's new initiative on crime?" She asked.
"No," replied Arthur, "the sudden disappearance of all the advertising executives in Islington".
Stunned, Agatha let the phone drop. The sudden disappearance of all the advertising executives in Islington could only mean one thing: that all the advertising executives in Islington had suddenly disappeared. Pausing only to grab her helmet and her A to Z, Agatha jumped on her green scooter and headed for Islington. Sure enough, a quick scan of the witterometer led her to the back garden of "Dunadvertising", where she was just in time to knock out a little green man with a water pistol as he materialised on the lawn.
"Are you still there?", said Arthur.
Agatha Christie wasn't halfway up or halfway down an escalator in Woolworths. She wasn't even in Woolworths. Not that she didn't like Woolworths, she often shopped there. She was especially partial to their two for the price of one offer on Mint Poppets. She couldn't abide the toffee ones though, her teeth weren't what they used to be. Still, that's what came of being over one thousand years old and having been born well before toothbrushes were invented.
As she sat soaking up the sun in the well appointed garden shed in Hampsted where she lived, she was startled by her telephone ringing. It was Arthur, her friend from the Telegraph who kept her up to date on the latest news.
"Hi Agatha", he said, "heard the latest news?"
"You mean the government's new initiative on crime?" She asked.
"No," replied Arthur, "the sudden disappearance of all the advertising executives in Islington".
Stunned, Agatha let the phone drop. The sudden disappearance of all the advertising executives in Islington could only mean one thing: that all the advertising executives in Islington had suddenly disappeared. Pausing only to grab her helmet and her A to Z, Agatha jumped on her green scooter and headed for Islington. Sure enough, a quick scan of the witterometer led her to the back garden of "Dunadvertising", where she was just in time to knock out a little green man with a water pistol as he materialised on the lawn.
"Are you still there?", said Arthur.
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
zobe still on holiday
...and a little jaunt over to the snow slopes for some extreme snowboarding action. did nobody tell her she's meant to be on the snowboard?
zobe on holiday
tired from all her exertions, zobe felt she needed a holiday and popped off for a bit of sightseeing. a little trip to paris to climb the eiffel tower...
hide and seek
zobe is a fun loving little soul and has decided to play hide and seek. can you find her?
Saturday, April 08, 2006
an apology
bob and frog are going to be away for a week, so we're leaving the blog in the hands of zobe. sorry everybody!
Wednesday, April 05, 2006
inspiration - chapter 3
Chapter 3
The little green man with a water pistol wasn't halfway up or halfway down the escalator in Woolworths, he was at the bottom of the escalator, disguised as a Barry White CD. Quite how he was managing this he wasn't quite sure. After all, any Barry White CDs would have been snapped up long ago. But he did seem to be managing it and so he wasn't going to complain.
Why the little green man with a water pistol was hiding in Woolworths was a different matter. He came from a world a long way from this particular Yorkshire branch of Woolworths - Islington in fact. Not many people know that Islington is the gateway to a whole galaxy of planets but then that's hardly surprising - it's not something that the little green men with water pistols advertise much. Which is ironic, seeing as they usuall manifest themselves on Earth as advertising executives. The Barry White CD disguise was only because advertising executives visit expensive shops with discrete lighting and foreign names, not Woolworths.
The little green man's water pistol was digging into his side so he was glad when, on the prearranged signal, he was able to start shooting. All around him other little green men with water pistols were firing willy nilly at their pre-ordained victims. Taking careful aim, he pulled the trigger. Damn, he'd missed. In fact he'd hit one of those annoying humans which cluttered up the place. His intended target, a particularly large stainless steel saucepan, scurried away into a corner and he could hear it clattering along behind the shelves. Totally devastated, the little green man with a water pistol raced down the aisles, scattering CDs and videos left and right, before firing again as he caught a flash of silver. Startled, the saucepan turned and ran for the escalator. Dodging his fellow little green men with aquatic firing devices, the little green with a water pistol chased after the bouncing pan and cornered it at the bottom of the escalater. It took him several moments to realise that the escalator wasn't there and that in fact, neither was Woolworths. Startled, he looked around and the last thing he saw was a very determined old lady knock him out cold onto the grass.
The little green man with a water pistol wasn't halfway up or halfway down the escalator in Woolworths, he was at the bottom of the escalator, disguised as a Barry White CD. Quite how he was managing this he wasn't quite sure. After all, any Barry White CDs would have been snapped up long ago. But he did seem to be managing it and so he wasn't going to complain.
Why the little green man with a water pistol was hiding in Woolworths was a different matter. He came from a world a long way from this particular Yorkshire branch of Woolworths - Islington in fact. Not many people know that Islington is the gateway to a whole galaxy of planets but then that's hardly surprising - it's not something that the little green men with water pistols advertise much. Which is ironic, seeing as they usuall manifest themselves on Earth as advertising executives. The Barry White CD disguise was only because advertising executives visit expensive shops with discrete lighting and foreign names, not Woolworths.
The little green man's water pistol was digging into his side so he was glad when, on the prearranged signal, he was able to start shooting. All around him other little green men with water pistols were firing willy nilly at their pre-ordained victims. Taking careful aim, he pulled the trigger. Damn, he'd missed. In fact he'd hit one of those annoying humans which cluttered up the place. His intended target, a particularly large stainless steel saucepan, scurried away into a corner and he could hear it clattering along behind the shelves. Totally devastated, the little green man with a water pistol raced down the aisles, scattering CDs and videos left and right, before firing again as he caught a flash of silver. Startled, the saucepan turned and ran for the escalator. Dodging his fellow little green men with aquatic firing devices, the little green with a water pistol chased after the bouncing pan and cornered it at the bottom of the escalater. It took him several moments to realise that the escalator wasn't there and that in fact, neither was Woolworths. Startled, he looked around and the last thing he saw was a very determined old lady knock him out cold onto the grass.
and the moral of the story is...
there once was a girl. a ginger girl; a freckled girl. *
she lived many years ago in a land far, far away. (with the fairies)
one day she was doing some colouring, and her uncle offered to help her.
"alas!" she cried, "there is but one orange."
and she continued alone, working through her tears.
so ends our sad story.
be sure always to make sure you have enough oranges, and perhaps you will have better fortune.
*Hattie, not me
she lived many years ago in a land far, far away. (with the fairies)
one day she was doing some colouring, and her uncle offered to help her.
"alas!" she cried, "there is but one orange."
and she continued alone, working through her tears.
so ends our sad story.
be sure always to make sure you have enough oranges, and perhaps you will have better fortune.
*Hattie, not me
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
i pirate, you pirate, we all pirate
i just wanted to share the pirate love...pirate vt
to publish or reproduce withot permission of the copyright owner, or otherwise usurp (someones else's work or ideas).
chambers concise english dictionary, 1988-1999
pirate v. tr.
To attack and rob (a ship at sea). To take (something) by piracy. To make use of or reproduce (another's work) without authorization.
v. intr.
To act as a pirate; practice piracy.
Dictionary of the English Language, Fourth Edition, Copyright © 2000
pirate v. tr.
to take or appropriate by piracy; especially : to copy, distribute, or use without authorization esp. in infringement of copyright.
v. intr.
to commit piracy
Merriam-Webster's Dictionary of Law
pirate verb
1 rob or plunder (a ship).
2 reproduce (a film, recording, etc.) for profit without permission.
Compact Oxford English Dictionary of Current English
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
a story written in the fourth person
in the future, it might just happen that one would be late for the bus in the morning and would therefore have to run for the bus.
possibly this would cause one to slip on a carelessly placed banana skin and come crashing to the pavement, thus missing the bus.
in light of this tragedy, one would have to consider whether to wait for the next bus or to seek an alternative method of transportation.
or one might feel that this was a sign that the bus was not meant to be caught this morning and go back home for a cup of tea. (which would at least make judy happy)
one might then decide to go for a walk. to keep oneself sustained one might decide to eat a doughnut first. just in case the walk became long and one doughnut wasn't enough, one might decide to take one to eat on the way.
one might then decide that one to eat on the way was not enough and that two would be more appropriate, so one would take two to eat on the way. in fact, if it was a hot day, one might decide to take three to satisfy one's hunger for doughnuts. or four for one's hunger.
when one returned from the walk, one might feel that the five doughnuts eaten today was a little excessive, one might indeed feel a little sicks. (s)even though one ate loads of doughnuts (nein! said a passing german), one's at-ten-tion is being diverted elsewhere and one decides to make a leavened loaf of bread for twelve friends and thir teen-age children. for teen-agers it's best for one to use plenty of yeast, to make it less stif-f. if teen-agers have stiff bread they might hurt themselves, essex teenagers especially. i can't fit seventeen in, so i'm gonna cheat and just write it.
personally, i h-ate teen-agers (despite being one), their inane teenage chatter upsets one(especially when it sounds that posh).
one might then decide it might be better for this post if it went yellow, just to finish on a nice number
possibly this would cause one to slip on a carelessly placed banana skin and come crashing to the pavement, thus missing the bus.
in light of this tragedy, one would have to consider whether to wait for the next bus or to seek an alternative method of transportation.
or one might feel that this was a sign that the bus was not meant to be caught this morning and go back home for a cup of tea. (which would at least make judy happy)
one might then decide to go for a walk. to keep oneself sustained one might decide to eat a doughnut first. just in case the walk became long and one doughnut wasn't enough, one might decide to take one to eat on the way.
one might then decide that one to eat on the way was not enough and that two would be more appropriate, so one would take two to eat on the way. in fact, if it was a hot day, one might decide to take three to satisfy one's hunger for doughnuts. or four for one's hunger.
when one returned from the walk, one might feel that the five doughnuts eaten today was a little excessive, one might indeed feel a little sicks. (s)even though one ate loads of doughnuts (nein! said a passing german), one's at-ten-tion is being diverted elsewhere and one decides to make a leavened loaf of bread for twelve friends and thir teen-age children. for teen-agers it's best for one to use plenty of yeast, to make it less stif-f. if teen-agers have stiff bread they might hurt themselves, essex teenagers especially. i can't fit seventeen in, so i'm gonna cheat and just write it.
personally, i h-ate teen-agers (despite being one), their inane teenage chatter upsets one(especially when it sounds that posh).
one might then decide it might be better for this post if it went yellow, just to finish on a nice number
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Aha!!!!
Now I have had my revenge for the injustice of my many deaths!!!!
Bob and the frog are no longer team members here!!!! When I am satisfied with their
apologies then I will consider letting them back!!!!
(You don't have to stop killing me you just have to justify these deaths, like the live organ doner on Monty Python, others will benefit!!)
Bob and the frog are no longer team members here!!!! When I am satisfied with their
apologies then I will consider letting them back!!!!
(You don't have to stop killing me you just have to justify these deaths, like the live organ doner on Monty Python, others will benefit!!)
inspiration - chapter 2
Chapter 2
Belinda was quite sure how she'd come to be half-way down an escalator in Woolworth's. She'd just spent 4 hours trailing round town looking for a butter dish and she was thoroughly peeved. Oh yes, plenty of places had butter dishes but they were all too small or too large, or a strange shape, or just the wrong shade of violet. She'd spent 25 minutes in that last shop trying to explain to the shop assistant exactly why the chromium plated butter dish was not suitable to her exact requirements (it clashed with her kitchen curtains) and why the shop in question really should listen to the needs of its customers before putting chromium on everything. As she silently fumed to herself she was rather shocked to see a funny little man in a lion-skin cape passing her on the other escalator. Intrigued, she turned her head to watch him. He appeared to be a little disorientated - he seemed to be flailing a lot - and she was more than a little amused when he reached the top and went headfirst into a pile of saucepans. She was even more amused when, one by one, the saucepans clattered down on the funny little man's head. She was not at all amused when she was shot right between the eyes by a little green man with a water pistol.
In fact she was distinctly unamused and told the little green man so in no uncertain terms, before her brain cross-referenced with her eyes and caught up with her mouth, finally telling her sense of balance that she should slowly and majestically keel over in a dead faint. Fortunately by now she had already reached the bottom of the escalator or she would certainly have done so rather quicker than planned. Equally fortunately she managed to fall onto soft grass, quite a feat in the music section of Woolworths. As her brain finally gave up telling her eyes that little green men didn't exist, the last thing she saw was a well-thumbed paperback. Clearly visible in large gold letters was the name "Agatha Christie"
Belinda was quite sure how she'd come to be half-way down an escalator in Woolworth's. She'd just spent 4 hours trailing round town looking for a butter dish and she was thoroughly peeved. Oh yes, plenty of places had butter dishes but they were all too small or too large, or a strange shape, or just the wrong shade of violet. She'd spent 25 minutes in that last shop trying to explain to the shop assistant exactly why the chromium plated butter dish was not suitable to her exact requirements (it clashed with her kitchen curtains) and why the shop in question really should listen to the needs of its customers before putting chromium on everything. As she silently fumed to herself she was rather shocked to see a funny little man in a lion-skin cape passing her on the other escalator. Intrigued, she turned her head to watch him. He appeared to be a little disorientated - he seemed to be flailing a lot - and she was more than a little amused when he reached the top and went headfirst into a pile of saucepans. She was even more amused when, one by one, the saucepans clattered down on the funny little man's head. She was not at all amused when she was shot right between the eyes by a little green man with a water pistol.
In fact she was distinctly unamused and told the little green man so in no uncertain terms, before her brain cross-referenced with her eyes and caught up with her mouth, finally telling her sense of balance that she should slowly and majestically keel over in a dead faint. Fortunately by now she had already reached the bottom of the escalator or she would certainly have done so rather quicker than planned. Equally fortunately she managed to fall onto soft grass, quite a feat in the music section of Woolworths. As her brain finally gave up telling her eyes that little green men didn't exist, the last thing she saw was a well-thumbed paperback. Clearly visible in large gold letters was the name "Agatha Christie"
Hey Jude (re-written)
Hey JudeDon't be a fool
Just keep your eyes open
Remember to look both ways 'fore you cross
Then you can keep
From getting squashed
Bananananananaaaaa
Nanananaaaaaa
Flat Jude!!
Monday, March 27, 2006
repetitive
re·pet·i·tive adj.
-Given to or characterized by repetition.
-what these posts have become.
shame
shame n.
-A painful emotion caused by a strong sense of guilt, embarrassment, unworthiness, or disgrace. (or not reading a blog which is, after all, made 'specially for you)
-Capacity for such a feeling: Have you no shame? (well?)
-One that brings dishonor, disgrace, or condemnation.
-A condition of disgrace or dishonor; ignominy.
-A great disappointment.
-something that zobe should be feeling, having caused so much distress to her friends.
-A painful emotion caused by a strong sense of guilt, embarrassment, unworthiness, or disgrace. (or not reading a blog which is, after all, made 'specially for you)
-Capacity for such a feeling: Have you no shame? (well?)
-One that brings dishonor, disgrace, or condemnation.
-A condition of disgrace or dishonor; ignominy.
-A great disappointment.
-something that zobe should be feeling, having caused so much distress to her friends.
ungrateful
un·grate·ful
adj.
-Not feeling or exhibiting gratitude, thanks, or appreciation.
-Not agreeable or pleasant; repellent: “I will not perform the ungrateful task of comparing cases of failure” (Abraham Lincoln).
-not reading a story which was written especially for you.
famous people who could be described as ungrateful include: zobe
adj.
-Not feeling or exhibiting gratitude, thanks, or appreciation.
-Not agreeable or pleasant; repellent: “I will not perform the ungrateful task of comparing cases of failure” (Abraham Lincoln).
-not reading a story which was written especially for you.
famous people who could be described as ungrateful include: zobe
pointless
pointless (adj)
- lacking meaning, senseless, ineffectual
- not having a point especially a sharp point
- serving no useful purpose; having no excuse for being
- lacking import
- making pointed remarks about somebody not reading a blog, on the blog
- lacking meaning, senseless, ineffectual
- not having a point especially a sharp point
- serving no useful purpose; having no excuse for being
- lacking import
- making pointed remarks about somebody not reading a blog, on the blog
Sunday, March 26, 2006
disappoint
disappoint (vt)
- to frustrate the hopes or expectations of
- to prevent the fulfilment of
- to cause disappointment
- to know full well that an amazing story has been written about you, specially for you, and ruedely not to bother reading it for ages
- to frustrate the hopes or expectations of
- to prevent the fulfilment of
- to cause disappointment
- to know full well that an amazing story has been written about you, specially for you, and ruedely not to bother reading it for ages
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
Zobe Wan Gavinci on the moon
At the moment, Zobe Wan Gavinci is hanging from a cliff by her hair.
Ouch!!! That’s gotta hurt.
Shall we save her from the cliff?
Yeh. I think so.
Right. How are we going to do that then?
Well…
we should go and get a bungee rope and tie it on to Zobe and then she can bungee jump and bounce back up onto the cliff.
Oooh…good idea!
Zobe was less sure about the bungee idea.
“it’s gonna ruin my make up,” she said, “and it took me sooo long to do it this morning”
“stop your pathetic whining!” said Harriet. “get on with it,”
nobody, but nobody, argues with an angry 7 year old. So Zobe did as she was told.
A moment later...
Oh dear, thought Judy.
We remembered to tie the rope onto Zobe. But did we tie the other end onto anything?
No…I’m still holding it, aren’t I?
And Zobe is quickly heading towards the ground…
Hmm.
So the bungee idea failed. Both Zobe Wan and Judy fell to their deaths. They made a rather nasty mess on the ground. But Zobe came back to life, and magically found herself back in the zoo, ready to be killed in a variety of interesting ways during the rest of the story.
And Judy can come to life again as well.
“oh, does she have to?” said Harriet, “she’s sooo annoying!”
but Judy was the one doing the typing. So she brought herself back to life.
"have a muffin" she said to zobe. "thanks" said zobe, "what flavour is it?"
"rhodendron" said judy
"really" said zobe, "i've not had rhodedendron muffins before, do they taste nice?"
"i'm not really sure" said judy, i've not had one before
"they're horrible" said harriet, feeling that she hadn't been in the story for far too long
"hey, what about me?" said ben, who hadn't been in the story at all
"shutup" said judy and harriet together
"that's not very nice" said a passing lithuanian traffic warden
“who asked you” asked the small black fox?
“i did” said judy
“no you didn’t” said harriet
“no she didn’t say that” said judy, “you just made that up”
“good point” said the invisible man
“stop this” said ben, “get back to zobe in the zoo”
“ok” said jude.
back in the zoo, zobe was bored of waiting to be killed so she decided she’d visit a dangerous animal like a mongoose. however, as there wasn’t a picture of her with a mongoose so she had to settle for a nice safe animal like a lion.
“aaaawwww, look at the cute and cuddly ickle lions” said zobe, “aren’t they adorable. Listen to that lovely loud purring!”
tragically, as she reached out to stroke the cute and cuddly ickle lion, disaster struck. (dum dum DUM)
“that’s gotta hurt” said the little black fox
“no kidding” said judy, “definitely going to sting in the morning.”
“nah, I don’t think so,” said the lithuanian traffic warden, who happened to be passing again.
“ok, that will hurt” said the lithuanian traffic warden.
“go home” shouted jude, ben, harriet and zobe in unison.
“no I didn’t” said harriet! “I wasn’t even there!”
“well technically, neither were we” said jude, zobe and ben
“it’s a story” said the little black fox, “get over it”
did that make sense? no? good.
“but it does hurt” said zobe
“what does?” said ben
“erm, being killed by a lion” said zobe
“ah, that” said judy
“twice” said zobe.
“once is understandable but twice is just careless” said ben
“there’s too much conversation going on here” said michael fish, “showers, clearing later.”
good point, let’s get on with the story said nobody. There’s lots more animals that haven’t killed zobe yet. Like bears. They haven’t had their chance yet! Lets give the bears a chance!
Zobe wasn’t keen and tried running in the opposite direction but due to a strange twist in the space-time continuum she ended up running right into the bear enclosure and being eaten by them too. What an exciting life she leads!
who’s been eating in my enclosure didn’t say daddy bear (because they were still trying to avoid the endless conversations). Who’s been eating in my enclosure didn’t say mummy bear. Who’s been eating in my enclosure didn’t say baby bear. Hang on a minute, how many enclosures are there didn’t say zobe. However, she didn’t say it because she was dead again, not because she was sick of the conversations. Although she was.
After a quick recovery from death, she decided that lions and bears were too dangerous and she’d head for safer animals. She’s not learning yet – get out of the zoo whilst you’re still alive!!!! Oh, too late for that...
Sounds like it could be a good film that, “recovery from death”, starring zobe doll as zobe, assorted animals as zobe-eaters and a mystery special guest as a mystery special character you haven’t met yet.
“hey, we’re feeling left out here” said judy and ben. “this is our story and we’re not in it nearly enough”
“stop being so selfish” said harriet, “I’m taking over the story, get out!”
“hey” said zobe, “this ain’t your story, it’s mine! It’s all about me! I’m taking over. And am going somewhere nice and safe like the warthog pen. See, nothing bad could possibly happen here…..”
sadly as the words left her mouth, she tripped on them and fell headfirst into the mud.
“this story is dull.” Said harriet, “it’s just so you can get the pictures in.”
“yes,” said judy, “and your point is…?”
“the pictures are cool. They don’t need much explaining. Zobe went to the zoo, and being very tasty, was eaten. Many many times. Simple”
“and luckily, we were there to photograph all of these brutal attacks.” Said ben
“why didn’t you try to save me?” said Zobe
“there was blood EVERYWHERE!” said judy, “I would have got my hands dirty, and I’ve only just had my monthly bath.”
“you keep coming back to life again so we didn’t think we needed to bother” said ben
“and I couldn’t help,” said the banananananananarama, “cos I don’t even exist.”
Oh and by the way, in between all this getting eaten, Zobe managed to make a mystery special friend. She doesn’t have a name yet but she is played by a mystery special guest. (oooh)
We thought about ending on another cliffhanger, but that might get a bit repetitive.
and painful (for zobe that is), she's already been eaten goodness knows how many times
i think we should just let her go home and have a nice cup of tea
even though she doesnt like tea (strange child)...
aww look, there she goes... home to mummy.
network, conformity and phonetically will be appearing in the next installment. Well, they might be, but I don’t want to make any rash promises. They will attempt to find themselves in the next installment. Althought that sounds like they have a choice. I will try to fit them in somewhere. If I remember. Maybe. Promise.
with love, as always xxx
Ouch!!! That’s gotta hurt.
Shall we save her from the cliff?
Yeh. I think so.
Right. How are we going to do that then?
Well…
we should go and get a bungee rope and tie it on to Zobe and then she can bungee jump and bounce back up onto the cliff.
Oooh…good idea!
Zobe was less sure about the bungee idea.
“it’s gonna ruin my make up,” she said, “and it took me sooo long to do it this morning”
“stop your pathetic whining!” said Harriet. “get on with it,”
nobody, but nobody, argues with an angry 7 year old. So Zobe did as she was told.
A moment later...
Oh dear, thought Judy.
We remembered to tie the rope onto Zobe. But did we tie the other end onto anything?
No…I’m still holding it, aren’t I?
And Zobe is quickly heading towards the ground…
Hmm.
So the bungee idea failed. Both Zobe Wan and Judy fell to their deaths. They made a rather nasty mess on the ground. But Zobe came back to life, and magically found herself back in the zoo, ready to be killed in a variety of interesting ways during the rest of the story.
And Judy can come to life again as well.
“oh, does she have to?” said Harriet, “she’s sooo annoying!”
but Judy was the one doing the typing. So she brought herself back to life.
"have a muffin" she said to zobe. "thanks" said zobe, "what flavour is it?"
"rhodendron" said judy
"really" said zobe, "i've not had rhodedendron muffins before, do they taste nice?"
"i'm not really sure" said judy, i've not had one before
"they're horrible" said harriet, feeling that she hadn't been in the story for far too long
"hey, what about me?" said ben, who hadn't been in the story at all
"shutup" said judy and harriet together
"that's not very nice" said a passing lithuanian traffic warden
“who asked you” asked the small black fox?
“i did” said judy
“no you didn’t” said harriet
“no she didn’t say that” said judy, “you just made that up”
“good point” said the invisible man
“stop this” said ben, “get back to zobe in the zoo”
“ok” said jude.
back in the zoo, zobe was bored of waiting to be killed so she decided she’d visit a dangerous animal like a mongoose. however, as there wasn’t a picture of her with a mongoose so she had to settle for a nice safe animal like a lion.
“aaaawwww, look at the cute and cuddly ickle lions” said zobe, “aren’t they adorable. Listen to that lovely loud purring!”
tragically, as she reached out to stroke the cute and cuddly ickle lion, disaster struck. (dum dum DUM)
“that’s gotta hurt” said the little black fox
“no kidding” said judy, “definitely going to sting in the morning.”
“nah, I don’t think so,” said the lithuanian traffic warden, who happened to be passing again.
“ok, that will hurt” said the lithuanian traffic warden.“go home” shouted jude, ben, harriet and zobe in unison.
“no I didn’t” said harriet! “I wasn’t even there!”
“well technically, neither were we” said jude, zobe and ben
“it’s a story” said the little black fox, “get over it”
did that make sense? no? good.
“but it does hurt” said zobe
“what does?” said ben
“erm, being killed by a lion” said zobe
“ah, that” said judy
“twice” said zobe.
“once is understandable but twice is just careless” said ben
“there’s too much conversation going on here” said michael fish, “showers, clearing later.”
good point, let’s get on with the story said nobody. There’s lots more animals that haven’t killed zobe yet. Like bears. They haven’t had their chance yet! Lets give the bears a chance!
Zobe wasn’t keen and tried running in the opposite direction but due to a strange twist in the space-time continuum she ended up running right into the bear enclosure and being eaten by them too. What an exciting life she leads!
who’s been eating in my enclosure didn’t say daddy bear (because they were still trying to avoid the endless conversations). Who’s been eating in my enclosure didn’t say mummy bear. Who’s been eating in my enclosure didn’t say baby bear. Hang on a minute, how many enclosures are there didn’t say zobe. However, she didn’t say it because she was dead again, not because she was sick of the conversations. Although she was.
After a quick recovery from death, she decided that lions and bears were too dangerous and she’d head for safer animals. She’s not learning yet – get out of the zoo whilst you’re still alive!!!! Oh, too late for that...
Sounds like it could be a good film that, “recovery from death”, starring zobe doll as zobe, assorted animals as zobe-eaters and a mystery special guest as a mystery special character you haven’t met yet.“hey, we’re feeling left out here” said judy and ben. “this is our story and we’re not in it nearly enough”
“stop being so selfish” said harriet, “I’m taking over the story, get out!”
“hey” said zobe, “this ain’t your story, it’s mine! It’s all about me! I’m taking over. And am going somewhere nice and safe like the warthog pen. See, nothing bad could possibly happen here…..”
sadly as the words left her mouth, she tripped on them and fell headfirst into the mud.
“this story is dull.” Said harriet, “it’s just so you can get the pictures in.”
“yes,” said judy, “and your point is…?”
“the pictures are cool. They don’t need much explaining. Zobe went to the zoo, and being very tasty, was eaten. Many many times. Simple”
“and luckily, we were there to photograph all of these brutal attacks.” Said ben
“why didn’t you try to save me?” said Zobe
“there was blood EVERYWHERE!” said judy, “I would have got my hands dirty, and I’ve only just had my monthly bath.”
“you keep coming back to life again so we didn’t think we needed to bother” said ben
“and I couldn’t help,” said the banananananananarama, “cos I don’t even exist.”
Oh and by the way, in between all this getting eaten, Zobe managed to make a mystery special friend. She doesn’t have a name yet but she is played by a mystery special guest. (oooh)
We thought about ending on another cliffhanger, but that might get a bit repetitive.
and painful (for zobe that is), she's already been eaten goodness knows how many times
i think we should just let her go home and have a nice cup of tea
even though she doesnt like tea (strange child)...
aww look, there she goes... home to mummy.
network, conformity and phonetically will be appearing in the next installment. Well, they might be, but I don’t want to make any rash promises. They will attempt to find themselves in the next installment. Althought that sounds like they have a choice. I will try to fit them in somewhere. If I remember. Maybe. Promise.
with love, as always xxx
Saturday, March 18, 2006
inspiration - chapter 1
Chapter 1
Felix was unsure exactly how he'd come to be half-way up an escalator in Woolworth's. The last thing he remembered was sitting down in the garden with a good Agatha Christie. It was reasonable to assume that the Agatha Christie had contained no reference to Woolworth's, so his current situation was rather of a mystery. As, come to think of it, was the lion-skin cape he appeared to be wearing. After panicking intensely for a couple of seconds, Felix closed his eyes, determined to get a firm grip on the situation, as well as on the hand-rail which his aimlessly flailing right hand had recently discovered.
"Calm down", he muttered to himself, "Calm down and think rationally".
Several rational thoughts later he was no further forward, as even Felix's hyper-intelligent mind couldn't think of a sensible reason for the sudden disappearance of his garden and its replacement by a large department store. Soon, the rational gave way to the irrational, which were then bullied out of the way by the highly illogical, only to be jumped from behind by the quite plainly ridiculous. It was fortunate that at this point the escalator reached its destination (the kitchen utensil department), or Felix would soon have been hiding behind a large wok in order to escape the little green men with water pistols. Less fortunate was the fact that he had failed to notice the imminent arrival of said department, and so fell headlong into the rather large pile of stainless steel saucepans that had been lovingly arranged there for his perusal.
As he lost consciousness, Felix was rather relieved to notice that he hadn't broken anything in his fall. At least, nothing that he'd have to pay for. He was sure the hospital could sort out the arm in no time.
(To be continued... with apologies to Dave for stealing chapter 1!)
Felix was unsure exactly how he'd come to be half-way up an escalator in Woolworth's. The last thing he remembered was sitting down in the garden with a good Agatha Christie. It was reasonable to assume that the Agatha Christie had contained no reference to Woolworth's, so his current situation was rather of a mystery. As, come to think of it, was the lion-skin cape he appeared to be wearing. After panicking intensely for a couple of seconds, Felix closed his eyes, determined to get a firm grip on the situation, as well as on the hand-rail which his aimlessly flailing right hand had recently discovered.
"Calm down", he muttered to himself, "Calm down and think rationally".
Several rational thoughts later he was no further forward, as even Felix's hyper-intelligent mind couldn't think of a sensible reason for the sudden disappearance of his garden and its replacement by a large department store. Soon, the rational gave way to the irrational, which were then bullied out of the way by the highly illogical, only to be jumped from behind by the quite plainly ridiculous. It was fortunate that at this point the escalator reached its destination (the kitchen utensil department), or Felix would soon have been hiding behind a large wok in order to escape the little green men with water pistols. Less fortunate was the fact that he had failed to notice the imminent arrival of said department, and so fell headlong into the rather large pile of stainless steel saucepans that had been lovingly arranged there for his perusal.
As he lost consciousness, Felix was rather relieved to notice that he hadn't broken anything in his fall. At least, nothing that he'd have to pay for. He was sure the hospital could sort out the arm in no time.
(To be continued... with apologies to Dave for stealing chapter 1!)
Thursday, March 16, 2006
a story written in the second person
one day, you were sitting reading this blog.
"that's interesting" you thought, "there's a story written in the second person. i wonder what that's about".
scrolling down the page, past the excellent story written in the first person, you came to this story and were amazed to see that it was all about you!
"how interesting" you thought, "does that mean that if i start thinking about purple elephants, they'll magically appear in the story?"
sure enough, you saw the pink elephants appear in the story.
"oh no" you thought, "it wasn't pink elephants i was thinking about, they were purple! how very impossible, for this story to be about me and yet not be what i was thinking."
"oh dear," you chipped in, "that makes me very confused!"
"speak for yourself" you thought, "i understand it totally!"
"when did i start arguing with myself" you wondered for a short while before you chipped in with "a long, long time ago".
"in a galaxy far far away?" you asked?
"absolutely!" you chipped in.
"well, i'm not sure i like all these revelations about the inner workings of my mind" you thought. "if i'm not careful, i'm going to start thinking about..."
"no!" you cried out loud, "i'm not going to think about that because i don't want everybody else to know about..."
"oh dear" you thought, "this is really getting quite tricky. i don't think i'm very good at controlling my thoughts."
quickly, you decided to stop reading and moved on to the next entry.
"that's interesting" you thought, "there's a story written in the second person. i wonder what that's about".
scrolling down the page, past the excellent story written in the first person, you came to this story and were amazed to see that it was all about you!
"how interesting" you thought, "does that mean that if i start thinking about purple elephants, they'll magically appear in the story?"
sure enough, you saw the pink elephants appear in the story.
"oh no" you thought, "it wasn't pink elephants i was thinking about, they were purple! how very impossible, for this story to be about me and yet not be what i was thinking."
"oh dear," you chipped in, "that makes me very confused!"
"speak for yourself" you thought, "i understand it totally!"
"when did i start arguing with myself" you wondered for a short while before you chipped in with "a long, long time ago".
"in a galaxy far far away?" you asked?
"absolutely!" you chipped in.
"well, i'm not sure i like all these revelations about the inner workings of my mind" you thought. "if i'm not careful, i'm going to start thinking about..."
"no!" you cried out loud, "i'm not going to think about that because i don't want everybody else to know about..."
"oh dear" you thought, "this is really getting quite tricky. i don't think i'm very good at controlling my thoughts."
quickly, you decided to stop reading and moved on to the next entry.
Monday, March 13, 2006
twice upon a time (the further adventures of the little black fox)
twice upon a time there was a little black fox who kept being mistaken for a small black pussy cat. the little black fox was feeling very smug having not only escaped from the belly of a large black fox and a large brown bunny rabbit, but also having successfully negotiated a small black hole and emerged unscathed.
he was however feeling a little lonely as the small black hole had sucked in all the matter in the universe and he was left all on his own in an endless void.
his little black eyes welled with tears and he thought back with sorrow to the previous day when his tiny black brother had hit him in the face with a big black stick and given him the black eyes.
sniffling his little black nose somewhat he curled up in a little black corner and tried to block the black thoughts from his little black mind.
"ah well", he thought, "it could be worse".
he was however feeling a little lonely as the small black hole had sucked in all the matter in the universe and he was left all on his own in an endless void.
his little black eyes welled with tears and he thought back with sorrow to the previous day when his tiny black brother had hit him in the face with a big black stick and given him the black eyes.
sniffling his little black nose somewhat he curled up in a little black corner and tried to block the black thoughts from his little black mind.
"ah well", he thought, "it could be worse".
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
bananas in pajamas
i know how being emotional can make you hungry, so now zobe doll has her emotions back, she might need a little snack
i hope she enjoys it
by popular request she's also regrown her hair and changed into a little black number
doesn't she like nice!
How Dare You!!!!
Why can I do nothing on the site anymore?? You've taken me off the members list havn't you!!! How dare you do that!!!! Put me back on right now!!!
Monday, March 06, 2006
vanished!
we've vanished! is it some evil trick of the evil shrinking pixies? has the little black fox eaten us?? or has the evil night duck poked us into oblivion??? we're no longer listed anywhere...
Sunday, March 05, 2006
Zobe Wan Gavinci at the Zoo
It’s a very special day today. Zobe Wan Gavinci is going to the zoo. Isn’t that exciting?She got up very early to get ready. She put on her best blue dress. Then decided to take it off again. She is a crazy little girly.
She was a little confused as to why she was missing a tooth, but decided not to argue. We all know Jude would beat Zobe in a fight, so she held her tongue. Then she let go of her tongue cos it was slimy. Sorry, unneccessary comment there...
She ate her fish cakes for breakfast with glee, and then made a nice sloppy bowl of porridge for her baby brother.
As she doesn’t actually have a baby brother, and anyway he doesn’t like porridge, she had to eat it all herself and got very very full.
“Feel free to chip in anywhere,” said Ermintrude.
“Chip,” replied the toaster.
Fortunately she didn't have chips too otherwise she would have burst everywhere. And then there would have been fish cake and sloppy porridge all over the place, and that would not have been good.
Setting off for the zoo (having put her best blue dress back on again - no gratuitous nudity in this story)
“She can't have her blue dress on ‘cos she is naked in most of the pictures we have, or at least not wearing a blue dress,” said a dancing hippo.
“Good point,” shouted Ben from Whittington (a.k.a. the middle of nowhere), “scratch that last bit then.”
“Hey! That was harsh,” said Judy, “how did the evil shrinking pixie get to be
a narrator?”
Setting off for the zoo (having put her cylindrical brown dress on - still no gratuitous nudity in this story), Zobe Wan hopped onto the bus for the short journey to the zoo.
“Hang on two tics.”
Tic
Tic
“OK, go for it :-)”
Zobe stepped off the bus at the zoo, remembering to let it stop first (this time).
The bus drove away. Bye bye bus!
Oh no!!! She had forgotten to hop. She looked around to check that no one had noticed. Phew!
She hopped to the entrance and paid to go in (what a good little Zobe she is!)
Bored of the long build up, Zobe arrived at the zoo.
Oh, she’s already done that
“Keep up!” Judy said, giving Ben a withering look.
“You’re making me go backwards and forwards,” complained Zobe, “which is very difficult if you have to hop everywhere.”
She got into the zoo and set off to visit the animals.
Being a sensible Zobe Wan she headed straight for the penguins, intending to steal one and take it home as a pet.
Unfortunately we’ve neglected to make a zobe-penguin pic, so we shall move swiftly on.
On realising that she hadn't brought a carrier bag and would have to eat the penguin to smuggle it out she thought better of it and decided to continue on her way.
“You just had to talk about the penguins again, didn’t you!?”
“Why do we bother Judy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why are you talking to yourself, Judy?”
“Well- look what the alternative is.”
“Ouch!”
“Sorry. Didn’t mean it. Hi Ben”
Ben refused to answer. He’d gone in a huff with Jude for being so horrible. But he got over it soon and the story was continued.
So Zobe Wan decided to visit the giraffe instead. With a complete absence of withering looks or insults, Jude and Ben agreed that she hopped over to the giraffe enclosure and, unfortunately, forgot to stop, hurtling straight over the fence and landing at the feet of the giraffe.
“Whee,” cried Zobe as she summersaulted gracefully through the air. 
“Yeah, as if,” replied the narrators. We’ve already said that you hurtle over the fence. Don’t try to make it sound better.
Zobe hung her head in shame.
Horrified at this terrible turn of events, Jude apologised profusely for being so insulting earlier, promised not to cast any more withering looks, at least for the rest of the story, and both her and Ben forgot about Zobe who was getting to know the giraffe better.
“I’m not too sure ‘bout this apologizing malarkey,” said the giraffe, “seems very out of character to me.”
Luckily, a warden was on hand to give the giraffe a slap, and it shut up.
Ben proudly sent a picture of Zobe with the penguins. It was rather cool, but messed up the story slightly since a lot of effort (well, a couple of lines) were taken to explain how there were no pictures of Zobe with the penguins. Judy considered going back and changing it, but decided better of it. Instead, she sent Zobe on a detour back to the penguins, and then let her hop to the giraffes again.
“Can I summersault gracefully into the enclosure this time?” pleaded Zobe…
“oh, go on then”
Zobe summersaulted gracefully into the giraffe enclosure.
Did anything exciting happen there?
Well, Zobe had her hair nibbled. Lovely!
“We need to include the word rudimentary,” Ben reminded Judy.
“Look, you just have!” said Judy
“Problem solved!”
Having not been notified of this part of the story, Ben had in fact come up with a totally different way of including the word rudimentary...
“I think the giraffe should say it,” he wrote
“He could pull out a dictionary, and look up rudimentary.”
RUDIMENTARY:
"elementary; crude, primitive or makeshift; in an early or arrested stage of development"
“Strangely applicable,” thought the giraffe
"Did anything exciting happen in the giraffe enclosure" asked Jude again, "or shall we leave it on a cliff hanger".
"Definitely a cliff hanger" replied Ben
"Hang on a minute" screamed Zobe, "I'm not hanging off any cliffs."
But it was too late.
Will Zobe escape from dangling by her hair from a cliff?
Where did the cliff come from anyway?
And will Jude and Ben manage to include the words "lithuanian", "muffin" and "rhodedendron" in the next installment?
hello
this is a post to say how much i love and admire Bob and Belinda. especially Bob, although Belinda's not so bad. they are so cool. i wish i was just like them.
Bob and Belinda do bully me though.....so maybe I don't like them that much anymore....
Friday, March 03, 2006
a small black bedtime story
once upon a time there was a small black fox who kept being mistaken for a small black pussy cat. he lived all alone in a small black hole (he was only a small black fox) where he spent his time eating jam doughnuts.
one day a small brown bunny rabbit found the small black hole and thought "that looks exciting, i wonder what delights could be at the bottom of this small black hole". he didn't ever have time to regret his curiosity. the next morning, the small black fox was wearing a small brown pair of rabbit-fur mittens. no longer was he mistaken for a small black pussy cat! he was now mistaken for a small black pussy cat wearing small brown rabbit-fur mittens.
the other small brown bunny rabbits were very upset by the loss of their friend and so they all ganged up together in a big small brown bunny rabbit gang and went to the small black hole to confront the small black fox who kept being mistaken for a small black pussy cat wearing small brown rabbit-fur mittens.
the next morning, the small black fox had enough rabbit fur for a large brown rabbit-fur coat! however before he could be mistaken for a small black pussy cat wearing a large brown rabbit-fur coat he was eaten by a large black fox.
smugly the large black fox headed back to the small black hole but on the way he was eaten by a large brown bunny rabbit and so all was right with the world
and then the small black hole woke up, sucked in all the matter in the universe and went pop.
this story was brought to you by ben but was amended after judy (quite rightly) told him he'd got it wrong. and it's much better now.
one day a small brown bunny rabbit found the small black hole and thought "that looks exciting, i wonder what delights could be at the bottom of this small black hole". he didn't ever have time to regret his curiosity. the next morning, the small black fox was wearing a small brown pair of rabbit-fur mittens. no longer was he mistaken for a small black pussy cat! he was now mistaken for a small black pussy cat wearing small brown rabbit-fur mittens.
the other small brown bunny rabbits were very upset by the loss of their friend and so they all ganged up together in a big small brown bunny rabbit gang and went to the small black hole to confront the small black fox who kept being mistaken for a small black pussy cat wearing small brown rabbit-fur mittens.
the next morning, the small black fox had enough rabbit fur for a large brown rabbit-fur coat! however before he could be mistaken for a small black pussy cat wearing a large brown rabbit-fur coat he was eaten by a large black fox.
smugly the large black fox headed back to the small black hole but on the way he was eaten by a large brown bunny rabbit and so all was right with the world
and then the small black hole woke up, sucked in all the matter in the universe and went pop.
this story was brought to you by ben but was amended after judy (quite rightly) told him he'd got it wrong. and it's much better now.
A Bedtime Story
hey ben, tell us the story 'bout the fox in a rabbit suit. Makes a change from badger suits, anyway
Thursday, March 02, 2006
mwah ha ha ha
the randomfrog gets everywhere, there's no escaping!
and it does do the control and shift thing... look, i press control and shift and that happens! then i have to press it again to get back to this screen. control and shift, looks like that, then control and shift and looks like this again!
and when the broken hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be.
and it does do the control and shift thing... look, i press control and shift and that happens! then i have to press it again to get back to this screen. control and shift, looks like that, then control and shift and looks like this again!
and when the broken hearted people living in the world agree, there will be an answer, let it be.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
The Adventures of Zobe Wan Gavinci
the long awaited adventures of the zobe doll begin here. are you excited? would you like to humour us and at least pretend?
once upon a time there was a little "girl" called zobe wan gavinci. she had long flowing embroidery hair and wavy arms. she was a happy little soul, despite her oversized feet.
"it always annoys me when you press controll and shift to select something, cos it goes to preview" she said. "look, try it"
"nope, just my computer"
"sure ben, whatever you say. i think you may have been on the strawberry laces again"
"noooooo not the strawberry laces!!!!!"
"mmm edible hair"
hang on, that makes no sense, said the small dog from the previous story.
"aaargh, what are you doing here?" said the banananananananarama
"i'm not really here," he replied, vanishing.
"my that was strange," said the bananananananarama, "i wonder what will happen next..."
tune in soon for the next installment, which will include these words...
fish cake
sloppy
rudimentary
this story comes to you with love and cheese from judy and ben :-)
Judy
Oh Judy you so fine, you so fine you blow my mid hey Judy hey hey
Hey Judy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Also...
Hey Jude, dont be afraid
Take a sad song,
And make it better.
Hey Judy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Also...
Hey Jude, dont be afraid
Take a sad song,
And make it better.
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Nutty 'Nanas
bananas. they're good. however, they are mentally unstable and easily disturbed, as illustrated by this (rather distressing) case. Mental illness in bananas is a serious issue in todays world.
Monday, February 27, 2006
A Story in the First Person
One day I was just being picky to annoy Judy.
No change there then.
So, it was just a typical day in the world of Zobe-Bob, and I looked out of the window at the street below.
What did I see there?
Go on, guess...
No, not a yellow submarine, guess again.
Oh, go on, please...
Yes you do want to guess.
Because it's fun!
Please...
No, I'm not going to tell you.
Oh, alright then.
I saw...
...
(drum roll)
...
a large pink trifle
I did...honest!!
It was wibbly and wobbly and a small dog was looking at it with a strange expression on its face .
The kind of expression dogs usually reserve for lampposts.
Don't think about it too much.
Senseing danger, I leapt (in a superhero fashion) from my bed and out of the window.
Unfortunately , I had forgotten that I live on the fourth floor of a block of flats. I had also forgotten to open the window.
It was a good job I had put on my rubber jump suit that day.
I hit the street and bounced.
To my dismay, having bounced of several phone boxes I landed in the trifle.
As the pink goo engulfed me I saw the small dog walk towards me, that strange expression still on it's face.
You can see where this is going, can't you...
I will spare you the details, suffice to say that when I managed to remove myself from the trifle I was very much in need of a shower.
A lack of forward planning meant that when I had exited my residence I had neglected to pick up my front door key.
Ah.
I decided therefore to head to the local swimming baths.
On a side issue, have you ever jumped into a trifle wearing a rubber jump suit? No? Well, lucky you. A strange reaction occurs (probably involving bacon - most things do), the end result of which is the slow decay of the rubber.
By the time I reached the swimming baths I was almost entirely naked.
For anyone planning to make a film of this story (it's surely going to happen) it is worth noting that I have extremely long hair. Therefore, no full nudity shots are required (think Catherine Zeta Jones in Zorro).
10 minutes into my pleasant, refreshing swim I became aware that there were rather fewer people around than usual, and rather more seahorses. And jellyfish. And sharks.
A question slowly entered my mind...
Why had I come swimming at the National Sealife Centre?
After a few moments of contemplation I decided that my more immediate concern was to remove myself from the pirahna tank. Preferably with all my extremities in tact.
I remembered some good advice given to me by my mother:
"Your flower arrangement will stay fresh much longer if you cut the stalks diagonally, rather than straight across."
Not particularly relevant, but always good to know.
I harpooned the fish with my trusty harpoonerer and doggy paddled to the surface.
I climbed out of the tank and continued on my merry way.
And then I had a jam doughnut for breakfast.
No change there then.
So, it was just a typical day in the world of Zobe-Bob, and I looked out of the window at the street below.
What did I see there?
Go on, guess...
No, not a yellow submarine, guess again.
Oh, go on, please...
Yes you do want to guess.
Because it's fun!
Please...
No, I'm not going to tell you.
Oh, alright then.
I saw...
...
(drum roll)
...
a large pink trifle
I did...honest!!
It was wibbly and wobbly and a small dog was looking at it with a strange expression on its face .
The kind of expression dogs usually reserve for lampposts.
Don't think about it too much.
Senseing danger, I leapt (in a superhero fashion) from my bed and out of the window.
Unfortunately , I had forgotten that I live on the fourth floor of a block of flats. I had also forgotten to open the window.
It was a good job I had put on my rubber jump suit that day.
I hit the street and bounced.
To my dismay, having bounced of several phone boxes I landed in the trifle.
As the pink goo engulfed me I saw the small dog walk towards me, that strange expression still on it's face.
You can see where this is going, can't you...
I will spare you the details, suffice to say that when I managed to remove myself from the trifle I was very much in need of a shower.
A lack of forward planning meant that when I had exited my residence I had neglected to pick up my front door key.
Ah.
I decided therefore to head to the local swimming baths.
On a side issue, have you ever jumped into a trifle wearing a rubber jump suit? No? Well, lucky you. A strange reaction occurs (probably involving bacon - most things do), the end result of which is the slow decay of the rubber.
By the time I reached the swimming baths I was almost entirely naked.
For anyone planning to make a film of this story (it's surely going to happen) it is worth noting that I have extremely long hair. Therefore, no full nudity shots are required (think Catherine Zeta Jones in Zorro).
10 minutes into my pleasant, refreshing swim I became aware that there were rather fewer people around than usual, and rather more seahorses. And jellyfish. And sharks.
A question slowly entered my mind...
Why had I come swimming at the National Sealife Centre?
After a few moments of contemplation I decided that my more immediate concern was to remove myself from the pirahna tank. Preferably with all my extremities in tact.
I remembered some good advice given to me by my mother:
"Your flower arrangement will stay fresh much longer if you cut the stalks diagonally, rather than straight across."
Not particularly relevant, but always good to know.
I harpooned the fish with my trusty harpoonerer and doggy paddled to the surface.
I climbed out of the tank and continued on my merry way.
And then I had a jam doughnut for breakfast.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)