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Time waits for no man. Well, not anymore. Time used to wait for a guy that lived in Paris during the devastating pig plague of 1833, but that guy procrastinated way too much, so Time made a policy not to wait for any other man after that. Way to ruin it for everyone else, Parisian guy from 1833.

Necessity is the mother of invention. She is also the mother of new underwear. And Doug. Necessity doesn’t talk about Doug much. He was a bit of a disappointment, what with his lack of doing anything at all. Necessity usually pretends, if people ask, that Doug is a very animated piece of furniture.

A stitch in time saves nine. A stitch in my finger saves a great deal of blood loss. And, just in case you were wondering, Time did most certainly not have to wait for the man that did her stitches.

Many hands make light work. Especially if you live in a world where the switches are absolutely enormous!

Too many cooks spoil the broth. I tried to tell the cannibals that one less cook, and a hand full (they are cannibals, after all) of parsley, would make a huge difference. They didn’t listen. Their broth was spoilt. They really should have saved the last cook for breakfast.

 

 

I know this is supposed to be a creative writing blog, but sometimes I guess things pop up that just need to be shared.

So welcome to a brief glimpse into my life:

Do do do do do doooooooo (that’s trumpet fanfare, just in case you couldn’t tell…)

Alrighty… a little background information is required here. The other day, I received a call from someone, who we shall refer to as Bob, telling me that they had a missed call from my phone number. I told them my phone had been playing up, which it had, and that I hadn’t actually called anyone that day. I apologised for the inconvenience, and thought nothing more of it.

Then, yesterday, as I was laying on the couch, reading a (not very good) book, I was treated to a wonderfully eye opening text message exchange of wierdness. I probably shouldn’t have allowed myself to get so involved, but hey, hindsight is a wonderful thing.

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent. The rest is verbatim*

Bob: Hey that random person that rang u in regards 2 a misd cal. Jus wondrin if u knew the joneses?

Me: Huh? What you talkin’ about, Willis? (I thought at this point that it was a friend of mine whose name, for some reason was showing at the top of Bob’s messages)

Bob: Sori 2 b random n confusn, juswthat u sorta sound familiar n was wonderin if i knew u thro otha ppl. U sound so familiar! Cant put my finger onit

Me: This is Doug, right?

Bob: Na dnu hu that iz? This bob i gota misd cal frm u n rang lyk a couple days ago memba?

Me: Yeah, right. I remember now. Where do you think you know me from?

Bob: Wel ur the 1 that rang me but suposidly ddnt. Duno, ur voice n ur vocab jus sounds lyk i know u. How old r u n what skol did u go 2

Me: 33, and I went to a bunch of different schools in qld and vic. That was a long time ago, though 🙂

Bob: Damn, So doesnt ring a bell. Your a old man compard 2 me. Wea bouts did u grow up u sound sorta maori? r u

Me: No, not Maori, mate. Born in Melbourne, moved between vic and the Gold Coast all my life. Maybe I’m just one of those familiar sounding people…

Bob: Sori ta b cheeky, had to say ur a old man hehe. Awk thort i may hav known u from touch maybe. Yea prob jus random conection fne stuf. U hava lovely day

Me: You too, mate. Take it easy.

Bob: Yip, again jus a quik sori 4 inconvenin u. Hava gud 1

Me: No problems!

Bob: Jus tryn ta b polite u seem nyc so yea hava gud 1 n gudluck 4 future even tho i dnt know u

Me: You too. Take care.

 

And that’s the last I heard from Bob.

So, I’ve been out of town… Blogtown, that is.

I wasn’t being idle, however. I was really, really busy, saving the world from injustice and clogged drains.

All that is behind me now, though. As Vanilla Ice may or may not have said, “My hair is too tall!”…

Peace, you crazy housebound felines!