Mr William is a Man on a Mission!
Good morrow to you, serendipitous and sentient reader,
As you can detect, I am in good form. Spring is springing and my sap, not to mention my gander, is up! You could say I’m a man on a mission. Mind you, here in Norn Irn (Northern Ireland for English speakers amongst you), we have a saying that some twit ‘hasn’t a mission’, when we think he’s clueless. That is not I, as I occasionally do have a clue as to what’s going on, but I’m more Inspector Cluseau than Poirot! You might say, “Mr William, you’ve told us before that you were on missions, but things went belly up!” Well, cheers for that vote of confidence, but I hear lots of flattering comments everywhere I go. I hear them cry, “You’re an asset,Mr. Peeps!” and “You’re a real Count”. At least I think that’s what they said. Peeps do tend to whisper. By the way, have you seen my hearing aid? Anyway it is true that I’ve seen it all before, like déja vu, but I’ve got to make a mark before I shuffle off this moral curl, hopefully it won’t be a strange, blotchy smudge like I get on my shirts when slurping the ol’ soupe du jour!
You see, that Steve Jobs chap talked about death helping us to make the most of life and Dr. Desmond Morris (The ‘Naked Ape’ man, if you catch my drift) says he makes the most of every day and never wants to waste a precious moment. Also Ghandi talked of living every day like it was your last, while learning as if you were going to live forever! All great stuff and very inspiring. So, my mission starts today! After all, if Engelbert Humperdinck (You couldn’t make it up, but he did. At least it apparently belonged to a 19th century composer. No doubt it looks amazing on a billboard, but how did we ever take him seriously with that moniker?) Anyway, the amazing septagenerian crooner is singing for the UK in Eurovision, so there’s hope for us all! Let’s hope it’s not a ‘tour de farce’?
Any road, you may ask what my mission is. Well, it’s quite modest really. I just want to de-clutter my life of irritating details like selling my house and sorting out my apartment for the occasionally bewildered. You see, I want to get on to more important life-affirming stuff like chatting up ladies. I know the universe is astronomically enormous and everyone has their purpose. Well, as a part Italian, full time matinee idol, my purpose is to charm ladies and have a chuckle. What? We can’t all be Mother Theresa or Nelson Mandela! You have to find your niche.
Thing is, some things have caused mission ‘creep’ and some ‘collateral damage’ recently. Firstly, my memory’s got worse. When my daughter asks me what I did on any day, I tell her I need written notice on questions like that! Also, I needed my mobile phone topped up and the shop assistant asked which network I’m on. After I got over the implied suggestion I was some sort of space cadet, I asked him if he thought I was Professor Stephen Hawking or some other cosmological genius. Thankfully he smiled and checked the phone himself. Maybe he could see I was harassed. After all, I’m just getting over ‘man flu’, which, as you know, is nearly terminal. My daughter seemed to think it was a head cold. What she actually said was, “It’s all in your head!” Some sympathy there at least. Didn’t get much sympathy from the ‘prostrate’ doctor recently, a certain Dr. Isla Getya (Unsure of her nationality). Let’s just say that Corporal Jones from Dads’ Army had it summed up when he said, “They don’t like the cold steel up ‘em!”
I’ll tell who else has no sympathy- that numpty son-in-law who reckons this diary would be nothing without his ‘input’. He’s clearing out my house for sale, or so he says, and next thing he breaks my pole! (Don’t panic! I don’t mean some Polish bloke-although I wouldn’t put it past him. He was furious when I suggested he should go to ‘anger management’ classes!) No, I used a wooden pole to check the oil level in my tank. Well, in his feeble attempt to ‘tidy’ my garage, he only went and broke the end of my pole, which had been carefully calibrated. I try to stay ‘measured’ in my dealings with him, but if he’s not careful, I’ll break the end off his! Take that whatever way you like! Sorry, I’m getting carried away. Not literally, but I was relieved when he found and disposed of the rat poison. Thankfully, he didn’t fall for my ‘trap’! After all, I don’t want anything untoward to happen to him until the house is cleared.
Never mind all that! Some collateral damage to report. My tooth implant has gone again! That’s another trip to my dentist, Phil McAvity- a man who makes Dick Turpin look positively saintly. At least Dick wore a mask and worked at night! Then the ‘sell by date’ issue. No, not mine! I cannot get it right. I think it’s because I’m on a ‘see food’ diet. I see it, I like it, I buy it. (Julius Caesar can’t have all the pithy phrases!) In other words, if I see a better offer, I take it. That’s always been my way, but it caused a little ‘mission creep’ recently. You see, my lawyer at Screwer, Screwer and Screwer solicited my presence to sign some forms. Trouble was, with her being a ‘natural’ blonde and all that, I went without my daughter and I was looking at her so intently I can’t remember a bally thing she said. I would have signed anything and probably did. No doubt I’ll pay dearly when I get her bill, with a surcharge for time-wasting! Hey ho, got to go!
Before I go and check my oil and buy more nosh,(Probably pasta based, as I have a little Italian in me, if you’ll pardon the expression. Mind you, I hate macaroni cheese ‘cos it’s like worms and I’ve hated it since childhood. Anyway I’m ‘pasta’ all of that now!), I just want to celebrate the late, great ‘Norn Irn’ comedian, Frank Carson, by passing on one of his quips. He said, “Private Carson, I didn’t see you at camouflage practice today! --- “Thank you, sir!” It’s the way he told them! Also well done to Rory McIlroy for playing a round so well,unlike Tiger’s infamous playing ‘around’.
Anyway, I’m not really a space cadet, just a little ‘radio gaga’ with a series of little blips. Space-wise, it seems that the USA has to watch out for an invasion of ‘Romnians’ on the starboard bow. They apparently want to take over the helm of the US Enterprise. It’s life, Jim, but not as we know it? Any hoo hah, make sure and live every day as if it’s your last and have a chuckle as you go!
Yours always on a mission, but with occasional collateral damage,
The blogging Gogfather!
Good morrow to you, serendipitous and sentient reader,
As you can detect, I am in good form. Spring is springing and my sap, not to mention my gander, is up! You could say I’m a man on a mission. Mind you, here in Norn Irn (Northern Ireland for English speakers amongst you), we have a saying that some twit ‘hasn’t a mission’, when we think he’s clueless. That is not I, as I occasionally do have a clue as to what’s going on, but I’m more Inspector Cluseau than Poirot! You might say, “Mr William, you’ve told us before that you were on missions, but things went belly up!” Well, cheers for that vote of confidence, but I hear lots of flattering comments everywhere I go. I hear them cry, “You’re an asset,Mr. Peeps!” and “You’re a real Count”. At least I think that’s what they said. Peeps do tend to whisper. By the way, have you seen my hearing aid? Anyway it is true that I’ve seen it all before, like déja vu, but I’ve got to make a mark before I shuffle off this moral curl, hopefully it won’t be a strange, blotchy smudge like I get on my shirts when slurping the ol’ soupe du jour!
You see, that Steve Jobs chap talked about death helping us to make the most of life and Dr. Desmond Morris (The ‘Naked Ape’ man, if you catch my drift) says he makes the most of every day and never wants to waste a precious moment. Also Ghandi talked of living every day like it was your last, while learning as if you were going to live forever! All great stuff and very inspiring. So, my mission starts today! After all, if Engelbert Humperdinck (You couldn’t make it up, but he did. At least it apparently belonged to a 19th century composer. No doubt it looks amazing on a billboard, but how did we ever take him seriously with that moniker?) Anyway, the amazing septagenerian crooner is singing for the UK in Eurovision, so there’s hope for us all! Let’s hope it’s not a ‘tour de farce’?
Any road, you may ask what my mission is. Well, it’s quite modest really. I just want to de-clutter my life of irritating details like selling my house and sorting out my apartment for the occasionally bewildered. You see, I want to get on to more important life-affirming stuff like chatting up ladies. I know the universe is astronomically enormous and everyone has their purpose. Well, as a part Italian, full time matinee idol, my purpose is to charm ladies and have a chuckle. What? We can’t all be Mother Theresa or Nelson Mandela! You have to find your niche.
Thing is, some things have caused mission ‘creep’ and some ‘collateral damage’ recently. Firstly, my memory’s got worse. When my daughter asks me what I did on any day, I tell her I need written notice on questions like that! Also, I needed my mobile phone topped up and the shop assistant asked which network I’m on. After I got over the implied suggestion I was some sort of space cadet, I asked him if he thought I was Professor Stephen Hawking or some other cosmological genius. Thankfully he smiled and checked the phone himself. Maybe he could see I was harassed. After all, I’m just getting over ‘man flu’, which, as you know, is nearly terminal. My daughter seemed to think it was a head cold. What she actually said was, “It’s all in your head!” Some sympathy there at least. Didn’t get much sympathy from the ‘prostrate’ doctor recently, a certain Dr. Isla Getya (Unsure of her nationality). Let’s just say that Corporal Jones from Dads’ Army had it summed up when he said, “They don’t like the cold steel up ‘em!”
I’ll tell who else has no sympathy- that numpty son-in-law who reckons this diary would be nothing without his ‘input’. He’s clearing out my house for sale, or so he says, and next thing he breaks my pole! (Don’t panic! I don’t mean some Polish bloke-although I wouldn’t put it past him. He was furious when I suggested he should go to ‘anger management’ classes!) No, I used a wooden pole to check the oil level in my tank. Well, in his feeble attempt to ‘tidy’ my garage, he only went and broke the end of my pole, which had been carefully calibrated. I try to stay ‘measured’ in my dealings with him, but if he’s not careful, I’ll break the end off his! Take that whatever way you like! Sorry, I’m getting carried away. Not literally, but I was relieved when he found and disposed of the rat poison. Thankfully, he didn’t fall for my ‘trap’! After all, I don’t want anything untoward to happen to him until the house is cleared.
Never mind all that! Some collateral damage to report. My tooth implant has gone again! That’s another trip to my dentist, Phil McAvity- a man who makes Dick Turpin look positively saintly. At least Dick wore a mask and worked at night! Then the ‘sell by date’ issue. No, not mine! I cannot get it right. I think it’s because I’m on a ‘see food’ diet. I see it, I like it, I buy it. (Julius Caesar can’t have all the pithy phrases!) In other words, if I see a better offer, I take it. That’s always been my way, but it caused a little ‘mission creep’ recently. You see, my lawyer at Screwer, Screwer and Screwer solicited my presence to sign some forms. Trouble was, with her being a ‘natural’ blonde and all that, I went without my daughter and I was looking at her so intently I can’t remember a bally thing she said. I would have signed anything and probably did. No doubt I’ll pay dearly when I get her bill, with a surcharge for time-wasting! Hey ho, got to go!
Before I go and check my oil and buy more nosh,(Probably pasta based, as I have a little Italian in me, if you’ll pardon the expression. Mind you, I hate macaroni cheese ‘cos it’s like worms and I’ve hated it since childhood. Anyway I’m ‘pasta’ all of that now!), I just want to celebrate the late, great ‘Norn Irn’ comedian, Frank Carson, by passing on one of his quips. He said, “Private Carson, I didn’t see you at camouflage practice today! --- “Thank you, sir!” It’s the way he told them! Also well done to Rory McIlroy for playing a round so well,unlike Tiger’s infamous playing ‘around’.
Anyway, I’m not really a space cadet, just a little ‘radio gaga’ with a series of little blips. Space-wise, it seems that the USA has to watch out for an invasion of ‘Romnians’ on the starboard bow. They apparently want to take over the helm of the US Enterprise. It’s life, Jim, but not as we know it? Any hoo hah, make sure and live every day as if it’s your last and have a chuckle as you go!
Yours always on a mission, but with occasional collateral damage,
The blogging Gogfather!
