So, having returned to work, I found myself ploughing through a zillion e-mails. Whilst my original plan to 'select all' and then delete the bastards, it would be typical that I missed an important one like:-
Dear Goth, congratulations you have won new bionic arms or
Dear Goth, my name is Claudia Schiffer and I would like to sit on your face....
Obviously, I received neither, but as I was scrolling through them, my mind started to wander. I wondered what I would call my band if I was a hedgehog. A few that I came up with were:-
Hedgehog Death Cult
My Chemical Hedgehog
Hedgehogs Of Mercy
Red Hot Chilli Hedgehogs
Then I went for a cigarette and lost my train of thought. When I sat back down at my computer, one of those annoying American bossy muppets turned up and I inadvertedly blurted out -
"Fuck off pal, we don't have any oil here so go home".
He didn't take my subtle hint so I just ignored him. It was then I remembered something Mr Farty had mentioned in a comment, so I went to look at what he was talking about which was bound to be more interesting.
Well, bugger me backwards with a pitchfork. He has nominated me for some awardy thingy. Normally, I don't give a flying fuck about these sort of things but as it is The Fartmaster himself, I figured I'd do him the courtesy of acknowledging it. More about this tomorrow though......