Lord of Leisure

After an extended period of staying in, the cold chilling to the bone and parts beyond, The Lord of Leisure sits with his banjo, a cup of tea and a copy of the Angling Times, simply because the local polar bears up the street are hosting a dinner party and don’t wish to be seen with the riff-raff as they put it. Being a Lord of Leisure isn’t enough it seems…

Due to complications with the digestion system, the Lord did not make a public appearance in Manchester, with all the fans who were waiting, all disappointed. Or maybe 3 people, whichever sounds better. It was a great shame, and will have to be made up at some point, maybe with the give away of a keyring. Do people want key rings these days?

And now to stop referring to myself in the third person for the rest of the post, to the clan of Manchester, (Glyn, Kelly and the birthday lady, Christine with countless others) I will make it up there again now that the trouble seems to have subsided for the moment. But for how long? (cue music of doom with woman from the 50’s screaming)

During this weekend period of drinking vast quantities of drugs, more viewings of Flight of the Conchords occurred, along with updating the website to run on the newer version of WordPress, so there may be improvements to be seen as a result in terms of speed but other than that, the website looks the same and functions the same.

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In-between a course of chilli and jelly babies from the food supply drops from the UN while I struggled on creating the product which would destroy all of mankind, something became wrong. Pain was becoming apparent around the chest area, and the world became uneven. Had the arctic tundra finally began to take its toll on the Lord of Leisure? Will a man unexpectedly bust into flames to emphasise the horror that has begun? Will we use a cheap gimmick like a snapshot from Alien?

I have no idea why this is suddenly began, one would point to my silly lifestyle of eating, not moving much and spending all the time in front of the magic box with the questionable amounts of illegal dirty movies. However, one other did remark that it could be stress, the lack of sleep, there are many factors which exhibit themselves on the body as a sign that it needs urgent attention.

Thanks to an overdose of Tums with a liberal helping of Milk of Magnus Magnusson from Mastermind, it appears the pain has been subsided for the moment, but either way a trip to see Doc Brown to either sort the problem or travel to 1885 is likely to be on the cards.

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It’s been 25 days since I ventured into the arctic tundra of solace, to be at one with nature and maybe do some work. As the days go past, my thoughts begin to wander to past glories from last year, all those obstacles that I was to overcome, the climbing of Mount Olympus, the repeated sex scandals, defeat of the white whale to avenge my grandfather, and occasionally Glastonbury.

Food’s getting scarce now, I’m down to my last 17,000 tons of pies with mash and 180 containers of teabags with accompanying milk. Solitude can be a strange mistress, the mind wanes for life, and last night I swear that voices were heard through the wind, almost like it was beckoning me on, to succeed and survive (No, you b*****d, I want you to freeze your man sacks off! – Wind).

OK, so aside from that dilly-dallying, I’m sad to report that nothing much in terms of anything interesting has changed over the past few days, the work ever more continues, the dullness have become a naughty foe, throwing eggs at me and slashing the tyres of my car because it knows I can’t do anything about it for the time being.

But it’s not all typing useless rubbish which serves no purpose ultimately, there’s a slight flip side.

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