Burn Baby Burn

*Beep Da Da Beepity Beep Beep*

“Oh, a text message”


“Oh you son of a…”

How many of you lovely readers know me in the real world or have at least seen a photograph? I won’t terrify you all by posting one here but suffice it to say that my Host Body was chosen for his towering intellect and massive penis, which sadly meant accepting his “beaten-with-a-brick” face and tendency to develop severe sunburn when shown a child’s drawing of the sun. Ginger of hair, pale of skin and terrified of bright lights, he tends to stick to the shade come the summer months and goes through an inordinate amount of soothing lotions.

With that in mind, can you imagine how often during the summer there comes a time at which I actually want to step foot out the door and into the real world? It’s bad enough that there are… *shudder* …people out there, without some glowing bastard orb hovering above the world, trying to turn me into a flame-grilled fat guy. No, i’m afraid that I shun the sun. I am a sun-shunner. The heat really does bring out the worst in me, which is probably why I replied to That Guy as follows…


You’ve known me for a number of years now and should, therefore, know of my inclination towards spontaneous combustion when exposed to sunlight. I can only assume that your poorly spelled text message was an invitation to join you at THE BEACH, unless you require my presence at a specific beech tree or have decided to put on a stereotypical and slightly racist Mexican air and are inviting me to “the bitch”. I’m not sure what that would entail, but i’m damn certain that I want no part of it.

Assuming, therefore, that you are requesting my presence at the beach, I should point out a few things.

1) When I collected the milk from the doorstep this morning, it was boiling.

2) As of 10:01am, I am in excruciating pain as my fillings have melted

3) I just watched a pigeon fly into my garden, land on the bird table and burst into flame.

4) My fan just screamed “I CAN ONLY DO SO MUCH DAMN IT” and hung itself.

5) I am sweating so profusely that my neighbours called the water company to investigate what they assumed was a burst water main.

6) My fire has moved itself closer to the window, grumbling about it being “a bit too warm today”

7) I bought an ice lolly this morning which had sublimed before I could pay for it. 

8) I had to look up the process of sublimation for point 7

All of this leads up to one very important fact. There is no way that I am stepping foot out of my door today, unless the ice cream van pulls up outside, at which point i’m going nuts deep in the freezer and never leaving. 

Yours sweatily


Of course, I abbreviated somewhat for text.


Snow Day

Over the past few days I found myself become increasingly irritated by the mass of posts to Facebook and Twitter, all saying essentially the same thing.
Sweet, weeping Jesus people!
Ok, so meteorology is just guesswork with a fancy name, but nevertheless, they forecast snow, all you had to do was wait to see if it did in fact happen.

Of course, the moment snow was forecast, the panic began.
January 5th, the day before half of Britain disappeared under a blanket of white, we nipped to Tesco for a few odds and ends.
Huge mistake…
Never before have I seen an elderly woman bulk buying kitty litter with such an expression of mortal dread.
I can only assume cat’s defecate more when it’s cold?
Granted, considering the weather warnings, picking up essentials before the snow hit was in fact a sensible plan.
This does not mean that I expect to be horribly trampled in the rush for the last few boxes of Sugar Puffs.

Having returned from the riot, beaten and bruised, we settled in to await the coming of the dreaded snow.
In a truly astonishing turn of events, the Met Office was proven right for once and we awoke on January 6th to find ourselves snowed in, trapped with no hope of escape.
I could not have been happier at that moment.
An unquestionable excuse to avoid the outside world? Heaven.

My joy was shortlived however, when I logged on to Facebook.
Yes. It snowed. Thank you for the update.

Having said all of that, who doesn’t love the snow?
Staring out over a crisp blanket of white, snowball fights, zooming down the hills on a bright red sledge and, best of all, building a snowman.
I love to see children at play, rolling huge balls of snow down hills to build the biggest snowman possible, slapping a hat on his head and popping on a carrot for the nose, seeing the horrified expressions on their little faces as I arrive with my flamethrower…

Have fun in the snow folks

Al out.