Congratulations, Watski, on setting the tone for this week’s postings. None of this maudlin stuff about politics and the like, but a serious debate about sex in outer space.
The whole purpose of this internet thingy is to publicise the pointless, glory in the absurd and debunk those who think that they understand anything about human existence.
We idiots must band together to try to use up all of the world’s available disk space in pursuit of the bizarre.
A regular reader, a Mr Trellis of
I am regularly asked, usually by people with nothing better to do, whether I have nothing better to do than ponce around on the internet. Up to this point, my answer has been an indignant “NO”. Henceforth, I shall strive to be more belligerent in my response. “Sod off you pompous prat”, or something equally reminiscent of Byron, shall be my reply.
Another new friend, a Mr Trellis of
So, dear friends, remember that I care nothing for your religion, politics, opinions, views, beliefs or your favourite member of the Bucharest Philharmonic Orchestra. I do, however, deeply appreciate your support in helping to maintain these outcrops of sanity in a universe filled with confusion.
Hats off to Boris (bearing in mind that he is a professional buffoon), who has decorated his photograph on his web log with an enormous phallus, upon which he has tattooed his name, lest those fortunate enough to receive his sexual attention should be in any doubt by whom they are being shafted.
* My campaign seems to have resulted in Bozza changing his website to something less phallic. I offer my deepest apologies.