"Come back!" I shout.
"Come back! You're going too fast!
I can't keep up!"
I dream I'm standing forever
in amongst the trees
it's light all around.
What's next? I'll go to the bank to draw out some money, but they'll
have to ring me on my mobile phone to check it's really me?! Or maybe
one day the Police will turn up at my parent's house, and they'll be
like, "Who are you? Why are you here in this house?" and I'll be like,
"They're my parents," and the Police will be like, "Why are you still
living here?" and I'll be like, "I'm too poor to live anywhere else at
the moment, without resorting to floating my body on the stock market."
Anyway, time for a proper story...
Once upon a time (11am yesterday - or if the spam filter catches this
message, a 11am 3 days ago), a man called Gerald woke up (he'd had a
late night the night before, staying up surfing the internet for answers
to the question "Why isn't Planet Earth cube-shaped?"), and yawned a big
yawny-faced yawn, so wide he nearly swallowed his own head (that's how
tired he was).
But oh - shock horror! Right at that moment, a cat flew past in a remote
controlled helicopter. It looked terrified and bemused, flapping its
paws around, and had an expression on its face which said: "Why does
this kind of thing always have to happen to me?"
If you didn't bother to read it, you really have no idea what you
missed. I answered the actual riddle to meaning of life, and there you
are totally oblivious. Poor you, in your little world of sitting in a
chair eating smarties and scratching your elbows. Elbows, elbows,
felbows, melbows, trelbows, wibbly wobbly hibbly wobbly dungerees. Etc.
Anyway, who wants to hear a little story?
Okay, then I shall begin...
Once upon a time (not very long ago, but long enough ago that you
definately wouldn't have been alive when it happened, whatever it is
that I'm about to tell you), in a very far away land (e.g. Norway-
unless of course you life in, or close to, Norway, in which case one of
your dead relatives may have witnessed this very event), a man (whose
name - Dave - shall remain unknown) was busy in his garage (it had a
green door) building a model helicopter to fly his pet cat towards that
place above the clouds where the sun always shines.
"Simon," he said (his cat's called Simon, by the way). "You have lived
for far too long in this grey, dull shit hole of a place, and I can see
the tears just acheing to burst out from behind your tightly closed
eyelids, that you yearn for the warmth of the sun on your beautiful
face. Oh my beatufil cat, oh how beatiful you are. And that's not a gay
thing to say, because you're a male cat, not a male human."
"Meow meow meow," said Simon.
"Yes I know," said The Man. "I quite agree, life really had been
terrible down here."
"Yes, I know, that's why I want to fly you up above the clouds. Up up up
up up up, up, up above the clouds. Up up above the clouds. Up. Above the
clouds. Way up, all the way up, right through them and out the top,
where it's always sunny and you can fly around with a big smile on your
face, purring like the beautiful purring kitty cat that you are."
He keeps walking around the house
"What's that strange smell?" he keeps saying
But nobody can smell anything
The silly man
"But what if you need some of it later on at some point?" said Another
Man You Don't Know.
"I don't care, it's all got too much, I want to get rid of it all," said
The Man You Don't Know. And so he began ripping everything off the
shelves and stuffing it into black bin liners.
"NO! STOP!" shouted Some Woman Whose Place In The Story We May Never
Fully Understand. "Just think of all those old Christmas cards, and
letters from people you no longer give a shit about. If you get rid of
them, you will no longer have those memories to fall back on, and
without memories what will you be?"
"Free," said The Man You Don't Know. "Without memories to hold me back,
I can do anything. I can fly, up beyond the clouds, to islands floating
in the sky."
And at that moment, the red and yellow of the sunset sky began to leak
in through the small gap in the window. The Man You Don't Know leaned
forward and opened the window fully, letting the orange glow fill the room.
And as all three of them leaned out the window to wave at the people
below, the house began to collapse, and with big grins on their faces
they all jumped out just in time, and began floating around the street.
And they lived happily ever after as floaty people, forever and ever
amen and yourmen and everybodysmen and all the women too, all tickling
each other and dancing and that.
Anyway, a few things worthy of note happened today...
Allow me to explain..
So we all met up at the meeting point in the centre of Bristol, and the
idea is always to car-share out to the start of the walk. Two new lovely
young women turned up, and they were going to go together in their car.
I overheard them giggling something about hwo rubbish they are at
directions as they walk leader handed them their map and directions on
some paper. I was just on the virge of offering my services as their
highly compitent navigator, when the walk leader started saying how we
needed more drivers, and he asked me if I'd drive.
But anyway, so I drove, and two other people went with me, and a
different guy went with the two young women.
So, cut to over an hour later (a lot of which was boring motorway
driving on the M4), and we arrived at the car park for the start of the
walk. It was really full up, so I tried to park on this grassy area, and
my car got stuck! I ended up wheelspinning like mad. So I ended up
getting about 5 guys from the group to help push me back out of it, and
after lots of effort we eventually managed it, and I found another space
down the other end.
Just at that moment, the two new young women arrived in their car. But
their passenger was nowhere to be seen.
They started telling me about how they had had to let him out right near
the beginning of the car journey because he freaked out. They said he
suddenly said "I've just remembered, I've got some DIY I've got to do at
home," and then asked to be let out of the car. So they pulled over at a
petrol station and he got out. What the hell?
Contact Me: email@example.com
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