11th June 2003 - Please say I'm not Lactose-intolerant (by Derek)
I drifted off to sleep after two hot mugs of chocolate milk, but awoke at 6am to
a nightmare. Bending over in the darkness to pick up my pants, I thought I'd
squeeze a little of the excess pressure between my cheeks. Lo and behold,
Zarathrustra spake, setting off car alarms and barking dogs. Reaching nervously
behind, I was relieved to find my ass still firmly in place. At least I know I'm
still a 'virgin'.
29th April 2003 - Great Balls of Fire (by Derek):
Camped open air in the back yard last night. Fricking cold, even with two
sleeping bags, a big jumper and yeti-paw socks. I kept sticking my
freezing/thawing nose between frosty joss-flavoured air outside (my tree-hugging
hippy sensibilities) and the odours inside the sleeping bag (breakfast eggs and
leftover cabbage). Felt strange to have the sky as a ceiling, the Milky Way
winding above like a silver dragon (of the oriental supermodel-thin variety, not
the fatty-boom-batty dragonlance kind) shedding starry scales while launching itself
from the horizon. I'd always complained that I never saw shooting stars. Last
night I realised how seldom I look up.
1st April 2003 - (Derek): "I hate it when the kitchen floor gets sticky, so you can imagine how I reacted when I found someone (he knows who he is) grating cheese at the kitchen table. It was Sunday morning and neither of us were particularly fresh. Before I could stop him, he dropped some, and we watched intently as the yellow shavings trickled in slow-motion down his legs and onto the lino. Then, like Goofy, he cracked a winsome grin and went: "Hyuk!"
I went absolutely boonta.
Screaming like a suicide bomber and flinging damp rags at him, I can't imagine I made much sense. But he got the picture.
Imagine a Japanese soldier barking at a defeated POW to clean the floor and grate his cheese over the kitchen sink. That was me. My yelling transcended all barriers to understanding. Volume sometimes does lead to comprehension.
I must have made an impression because when I returned 10 minutes later, he was still buffing the floor.
I should have also told him to wash the rags. He left them covered in hair and kitchen floor-fluff."