In which I am saved, and then lost again

So the news is I’ve been saved from eviction from the Big Blogger house. I thought that my fate had been sealed and as, you have seen, I had written my last confession. But by a simple twist of fate, and the rules, Mike, the heroic Mike, voted Mr. Hair out and I was allowed to stay because, it seems I am a ‘character’.

According to the dictionary a character is:

1: an imaginary person represented in a work of fiction

As it is plain to see Dr.Rob in da house, is clearly this, a work of fiction, as it would be ridiculous to suppose that I have ever had any recourse to gurgle with Cillit Bang, (we’re still awaiting the royalties on this Cillit Bang manufacturers, for the number of mentions you have had!) play a Euphonium, or indeed wibble!

or it could be:

2: a person of a specified kind (usually with many eccentricities); "a strange character"; "a friendly eccentric"; "the capable type"; "a mental case"

I am sure many of my detractors would put me into one of the categories listed above. I don’t mind, ‘he who lives by the blog, dies by the blog’, that’s what I say, I’m always saying that, everywhere, people are sick of me saying it really.

3: : good repute; "he is a man of character"

Now this is more like it. A man of good repute, that’s me. Kind, caring and friendly to all animals, so much so, I don’t even eat them, except for when I’m cycling and the flies go in your mouth, don’t you just hate that, but then again, I suppose I need the protein. I am a man of character. I stand proudly with my triby on, smoking a pipe and gazing heroically into the distance!

4: a written symbol that is used to represent..., Now this is where Prince went wrong isn’t it, I can’t see my self being just a symbol. Its just not right. I couldn’t think of a title for my blog. Dr. ‘Twiddly things’ day? Not much of a ring to it, is there?

Anyhoo, (I’ve been wanting to write that for days, don’t ask me why!) Anyhoo I am back in, but we have to nominate again today. It’s a terror, I tell ya, it’s a terror.

Piles and Piles

By the by, did you see the adverts on TV last night? I saw one for Germaloids. Which, as the name suggests, is a treatment for hemarroids. It featured a guy wriggling around on his theatre seat grimacing, then coming back and settleing himself down with a grin of pure pleasure.

The treatment, however, was in spray form. And I was wondering just how does one spray their own arseholes. I mean it must be a bit difficult to get your aim right as by rights you should be bent over with your cheeks nicely spread, well just doing that takes two hands! Who is going to do the spraying? The toilet assistant? Your partner for the evening, what if it’s a first date?

Perhaps the tube has a built in camera, with a screen on a wire that you can prop up on the bog while you spray, a bit like those lazer aimed bombs we use in Iraq, so one can see the target (the ‘cats eye’) but there’s still the issue of spreading those cheeks.

There could be a niche here, as it were, to develop and patent an ACME bum cheeks spreader, so that one is able to utalise the pile easing spray with no difficuly and ensuring that the target area is coated evenly.

Anyway, you shouldn’t have sat on the radiators when you were a kid, you know your mum is right. Taking her advice would have saved you the embarresment of walking up to strangers in the public lavs and asking them to spray your arsehole. But then again your aching jaw would probably drive your itchy piles right out of your mind!


See you on the dark side....