Tim refers to himself in the third person when he is tired.

Tim says Hello.

I have another one that's very similar, only less left.

My left hand. I have another one that's very similar, it's sort of right-er. I consider neither to be particularly lucky.

I am tired. I don’t ramble on here much anymore, I’m always either tired, at work, or in the pub.

Right now, I’m sitting in bed feeling almost sorry for myself. Not actually sorry for myself though, more dazed and confused. I think my mind needs a holiday. That is, a peaceful, relaxing, happy to be doing nothing sort of holiday, as oppose to the “oh-my-god-lets-poke-that-tiger-and-see-if-it-wakes-up, oh-yes-it-did, I-hope-insect-repellent-works-on-large-members-of-the-cat-family” sort of holiday that I normally have.

I don't normally take pictures of poorly made service station advertising, but I admire the enthusiasm of this sign advertising low quality binoculars to people stopping in some motorway services on the M5. Brilliant for those unprepared motorway bird watchers. Someone text Bill Oddie.

I don't normally take pictures of poorly made advertising literature, but I admire the enthusiasm of this sign advertising low quality binoculars to people stopping in some motorway services on the M5. Brilliant for those unprepared motorway bird watchers. I think I saw Bill Oddie buy two.

Why am I tired?

I’m going to blame work and family life for the tiredness, Millets really need to invest in a building with a lift, and I really need to soundproof my room so I don’t hear everything that goes on in the house 24/7. It’s the little things that wake you up, like pots and pans jangiddling late at night, or the mad woman claiming to be your mother insisting on swearing to herself in the kitchen constantly. Around every 15 minutes she’ll either swear about you, or offer to cook you something (which happens to be behaviour I’ve only ever observed before in woman planning on poisoning their partners).

And, why do I have to ask myself questions in blogs?

Probably because I feel less like I’m complaining about something if I’m mentioning it as part of answering a question. Though I am talking to myself, so it probably doesn’t count.

Also, why did I just start a sentence with ‘And’, when that is something that really grates my cheddar normally?

I have no excuse, and I will probably regret it for days. By days I mean exactly seventeen seconds, afterwich I will get distracted and consider the possibility of buying a giraffe and using it to ride to town on. I’m not even sure it’s illegal to ride a giraffe home drunk, though I’d bet it’s at least frowned upon. I’d put flying goggles on my giraffe. I think flying goggles suit giraffes. Heh, imagine a giraffe in a bi-plane, trying to fly under power lines, but being too tall, getting stuck on it, and looping round and round comically. It wouldn’t even be seriously injured aslong as it didn’t touch ground. Probably an idea best left to cartoons though. I’d imagine you’d need some sort of insurance to pilot a bi-plane, and it would be prohibitively expensive for almost all animals, let alone one with hooves.

Finally, why did I just use the phrase ‘grates my cheddar’ when I find cheese so disgusting it’s pretty much my kryptonite?

That would be because I can’t remember the actual expression. Isn’t it something like ‘grinds my onions’? Or, ‘grates my turkeys’? Is there actually an expression along these lines, or am I making expressions up again? These questions really aren’t rhetorical, I need to know. For closure and such.

I don’t really remember what I was going to write about now. I’m sure it was something deep and meaningful, along the lines of “there is no god, but I’ve found the meaning of life, everyone listen and rejoice!”.

Memory is a bit flaffed though, so will have to make do with the fact that I’m marginally saddened by the fact that I’m useless tonight. I just played a few hour of poker, and lost every tournament. Then an hour of solitaire, and lost every game.

So, three possibilities present themselves to me:

1, I suck. I should give up and stick to playing with duplo.
2, I’m tired and it’s dulling my brain power to that of a Chinese made counterfeit sports watch that struggles with the idea that hours don’t last 100 minutes.
3, I have been unlucky all evening (Not that I believe there’s anything mystical about ‘luck’. If you roll two dice and get “12” it’s because of physics, not because you used your lucky set of hands*).

I’m going to go for a mixture of 2 and 3, as good as I am with duplo, I’m normally just as talented with other leisure activities**. I’m confident that tomorrow I will try again, succeed at my very first attempts and surf that wave of confidence all the way along the coast, until the sobering hours of morning, when I will realise I’ve lost my deposit for the rented surfboard, but no longer care, as I wouldn’t have been able to remember where I rented it anyway.

This has actually been quite therapeutic, I sort of feel less disorientated and a little bit like I’m not entirely insane. Thank you, sorry, and I promise one day the pictures may verge on relevance. I fear text never will though.


*I know few people actually have lucky sets of hands, in fact the few people I can think of with spare hands are either victims of industrial mining accidents (who probably consider themselves to be rather unlucky anyway), or are going to fancy dress parties dressed as clocks, but I couldn’t think of anything else people might carry around with them to bring themselves good luck. Though on reflection a lucky hat would have made more sense. In fact, almost anything would have made more sense.

**Upon re-reading this, it came very close to sounding dirty to me. Though I am paranoid that I’ll somehow come across as some sort of perverted sex maniac who only blogs to help establish alibis for his indecent exposure crimes in Lynn park.

P.S. I’ve realised that some of you may not recognise “jangiddling” and “flaffed” as actual words. Some of you are correct. Though the way I see it is that if some bright spark thought that “noogie” should feature in the Oxford Dictionary, I don’t see why I can’t get away with a bit of flaff’ing and jangiddling.

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