Transfixedationnessicity

Ignore the beers - if you can, you libation-livered layabouts - this is me in an elevated state of pondering-consciousness.

But what exactly was I pondering up on so much?

I would very much like to know the answer to that, myself.

Pre-Election Anti-Ugly-Campaign Team Blitz Stuff

Here are some of my team out leafletting against the Ugly Party.

Yes. Quite.

But they did dish out a ton of leaflets and still found time to perform the above bit of grotesque street theatre.

Went down a treat.

I'm not one to say I told you so...

Yes, far be it from me, to say I told you so, but I told you so.

Clearing it up

Bragg/McColl Sexuality lash-up. Lyrics here.

Look, I think this needs clearing up after some allegations were smeared around me on Friday night and now seem to be making their way into common tittle-tattle.

I hereby do confirm for the record that I am strong and warm and wild and free.

That's all you need to know.

Big Flash Shocker

I will say no more about it as I was vair, vair drunk at the time.

Electioneering

Here I am wasting up some valuable weekendage under the instruction of The Boss-Lady-Whose-Word-Goeth-Afore-And-Above-All-Others-For-Reasons-Of-Fear TM.

It seems she had gotten a bit behind on her mortgage-supplementing paper-round and so roped in a few 'volunteers' to help her out.

I, as usual, was a bit slow in taking the co-ordintaed step back and the upshot was two hours running round the streets of Barking on a rather elaborate game of 'Knock-Up Ginger' while avoiding tattooed baldies with bitey-dogs.

What larks.

Hard at it

On Saturday I was assisted by a whole bunch of 'volunteers' in performing the tricky task of keeping a plinth at Trafalgar Square on the floor by use of bottoms. Fortunately, they seemed just about up to it.

My own profanities

I am know internationally as a man of great deepitude and profundicality. I have decided to share some of my more powerful sayings with you.

So be grateful, you mangy dogs.


Profundity No.1

If stupidity got me into my current situation, then why can't it get me out?

The code of the bar

Beattie, the barperson's barperson bar none, achieves the answer to life, the universe and everything today.

Born under a blood-red moon to a pack of wolves and raised by gangsters steeped in the way of the knife and garotte, it's good to see he rebelled against such a lively boyhood and settled down into a life of moderation in all things, including moderateness.

But don't go getting him riled up, he is fearsomely talented with the sino-inflammatory-twisty-wrist-torture and also with sudden, surprising, and sly cracks on the head with his weather-beaten knuckles.

As an old Spanish shop-keeper will tell you.

Hush-hush!

Today I am returned to civilisation as I would like to know it after 4 days of secret charitable good works on dehalf of de deserving poor and a few too lazy for their own good, but you can't crack an omelette without wasting a few.

I have been strolling sur le continent avec mon bearer Beattie, raising untold pounds on a holiday break in deepest Los Spain.

I return refreshed, in fine fettle, and desperate for some appreciative accolades. Send them to the usual address. In confidence.

Ha! What a bunch of April Fools!

Never in the field of dreams have I laughed so much or so long at my own highly-expected success in drawing you bunch of malcontents and nincompoops into my web of April Foolery and deceit type goings-on as I did and have been doing-of since my wildly hilarious trick that I have played upon you in the traditional manner as at yesterday on April 1.

But, better than that even more so, is the fact that my Foolishness made it into a national paper in their round-up of great April Foolers!

Yes! At last I am getting the recognition I have long craved and am deserving of no-end.

So, I thank you all for your gullibilitiness and for making me a national superstar of winding you lot up.

Three cheers for me!

Three cheers as well for The Guardian!

Hilarious

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