Going, boeing, scone...

I haven't tried to sell myself on eBay just yet, but I can't imagine it will be long before I take myself off to the Post Office to see how much it will cost to send me second class to Norwich.

eBay really is a wonder in the modern age of disposable income, disposable contact lenses, disposable cameras, in fact disposable just about everything, but the difference is that we now know that our junk has a value and someone out there will pay money for our collection of Beano albums. I suppose it works as a 21st century barter system. My next sale will be my poor car (the clutch needs changing and it will cost too much) which is presently sitting outside my house. I'm going to start it at something silly like a pound and see how it goes.

I can't think of an ending for this post, so this sentence will have to do.

Strain of thought

I wanted to write, but was unsure exactly what would flow forth from my virtual pen. Indeed, I may erase this, but you would be none the wiser. For that very reason, I will leave this in, causing an apparent paradox so great that all paradoxes from now on will paradoxically appear logical, which is a paradox in itself. See what I mean?

There was a cheesy nightclub when I was at University called Paradox which was (and still is owing to a recent stag do visit) crap. It wasn't even crap in a cheesy way, although it was better than the Event which had foam parties, so classy it was. They used to water down the beer in an extremely unsubtle, near apocryphal way, although I always managed to leave mildly unsober before cabbing it back to Uni. I was never a big clubber and still prefer the late bar to a late club. I want to be able to hear when people insult my dress sense, not just be able to see their convulsions and maniacal laughter.

It's all behind me

It's panto season again (oh yes it is...) and my show Aladdin has finally come around. We had the first night yesterday and by all accounts, it went very well. Only five more performances to go, including an audience of rugby boys and their families tonight. I've begun heckling myself in preparation.

Here are a couple of photos of me as the baddie, one looking bemused, the other as a walking curry house...

Photos courtesy of the Wannabe Scriptwriter - http://wannabescriptwriter.blogspot.com/