Hmm, hello to everyone out there, its been a while and before you ask, no the rash has not yet gone.
Indeed It’s been a while since I last wasted “some” of your “precious”, “precious life”.
So here I go again (great song by the way!) Recently as my ‘friends’ know, I’ve left for the UK once again. My quest for the unthinkable, the unimaginable. Something a man like myself would never encounter in his worthless and pathetic life.
Yep! That’s it my friends: Love. Such an amazing thing and I am very blessed to have finally found its true meaning / feeling.
Over a year ago I met a woman like no other, just like me. Minus the Penis. She farts in my face while my mouth is open, the occasional ‘Hitler.’ (Oxford Concise Dictionary: ‘Hitler’ – To smear faeces in an unfashionable way on to one others top lip).
You know how it is. Love and all.
Anyway. I’ve not yet decided which way I’m going to head or which emotions I’m going to convey in this blog. My first initial though was pure and utter bitterness. As when you read on you will find out.
But it seems not even I, a 3 foot Black Midget with no legs in a wheel chair can escape the clause of being a funny man. Me, myself am not funny. Oh no, don’t misunderstand what I’m trying to say. The insatiable events that occur in my life are hilarious and by any means you will not be laughing with me but at me.
Disembarking from Australia this time I had two great friends accompany me to the airport. I can tell you right now it was fucken nice to have them there. I never used to be a man of many emotions, but it seems as I grow and since I’ve met my one and only. Smurfette (not actual name). I’ve also grown some Smurfin feelings. But yes I admit it was nice to see these criminals before I left (conjugal visits I believe they’re called).
The plane journey was one from hell.
On the plus side, I didn’t die and or shit myself from the 27 excruciating hours of not being able to masturbate. Alright, I kid. I pumped out 3 knuckle children… into other passengers open mouths while they slept.
Once again not true. But could you imagine the mayhem that would ensue if I had! Like a Dingo in a kindergarten. Ha ha.
The following events are true and may lead you to bleed out from all orifices or orifi.
I get off the plane (after watching the sunset in Australia, New Zealand, Sunrise in Los Angeles and UK). Bearing in mind I’ve already had a 2 year working Visa for the UK and returning after 3 months. Which is very, very naughty!
Only to be greeted by the crankiest looking bearded woman they had at customs that morning. As I stood in the cue I assessed the customs staff. As one does. Watching, analysing seeing which one as to avoid… Hopefully. I pick two of the crankiest and ugliest motherfuckers out and hope as not to get sent to either. Out of six, my chances are looking ok. Everyone is full. The furthest cranky pants receives a new passenger, I’m set. The curly haired bitch to my right is nearly done, she doesn’t look cranky. She actually looks quite pleasant. Hurry the fuck up, I think to myself as the bearded lady on my left is toe to toe with Curly. “HURRY THE FUCK UP!”… Shit I actually said that one. I get some strange looks. “NEXT” screams the cranky bearded woman. I cant believe my luck.
Play it cool.
“How are ya mate?” I say in my bestest, cheeriest Aussie accent I can muster after 27 hours in hell. She just looks at me… With her good eye mind you. The silence is killing me. She flips another page of my passport and gives me the old cock-eye again.
I’m starting to freak. The most precious thing in my life is upstairs waiting for me. Smurfette (not actual name), I love you.
Finally the beast stirs. “What are you doing back so soon?” I don’t understand the creature’s wails.
I ask it to repeat: “WHAT are YOU doing back so soon?” She / he spat that time… a lot. I was mesmerized by it and missed the harsh yelping like noises it was making. I daren’t ask again. Do I?
“Look, I’m sorry. It’s been a long flight and I’m tired can you please say that again a bit slower?”
“You don’t think I’m tired Mr. Brown?” She mutters back.
My wits don’t elude me though. Its only half 9 in the morning. Fucken lazy cold blooded bitch.
To be honest I cant really indulge the rest of the story just in case. But it followed with the words “I should be in my right mind Mr Brown to put you on the next return flight…” yada yada freakin yada! One and a half hours later after, the Bearded Lizard has spoken to the High Commissioner twice. Not once but twice. Demanded bank statements, called my girlfriend who was upstairs waiting for me. Then finally decide to let me through.
Hallelujah! Seriously one of the scariest moments in my life. There were defiantly loggerneck Turtles in my pants.