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Other People's Children Suck
Feb. 16th, 2009 02:10 pmAh-la-la, Playgym during half term. Stacked to the rafters and loads of kids that were really too old for it pegging around snatching toys and pushing the toddlers over. Again. And, again, I heard an F-Word from one of the likkle angels. BLESS. Also; a particularly large number of babies and toddlers with earrings. Nice.
I should be writing... actually no, I should be doing the washing up and then writing, but I'm still over-awed by my shiny, shiny new Twitter. Have learned it's a mistake to spend a couple of free minutes glancing through The Spine's back catalogue of Tweets as 15 minutes later I was still giggling at his horror at having to buy anti-snoring nasal strips in Large, his mild annoyance that the woman who usually stalks him at cons and asks him to sign her breasts not turning up to the last one he did ('maybe she won't have her breasts signed on the Sabbath'), his various deliberate misspellings of Wil Wheaton's name (my favourite was 'Wiiiiiiiiiil', which was, apparently, pronounced in the same manner as 'Khaaaaaaaan') and his musings on LaVar Burton's travels ('Maybe he wanted to buy some midwestern cheese'). Ah, The Spine. Less a Virtual Comedy Uncle (that position has been permanently filled by Sir Stephen of Fry), more a Virtual Housemate's Dad Who Turns Up To Help Her Move In And Then Embarrasses Her by Telling Lots Of Jokes To Her Friends.
Washing up. Definitely, definitely washing up.
Maybe.
I should be writing... actually no, I should be doing the washing up and then writing, but I'm still over-awed by my shiny, shiny new Twitter. Have learned it's a mistake to spend a couple of free minutes glancing through The Spine's back catalogue of Tweets as 15 minutes later I was still giggling at his horror at having to buy anti-snoring nasal strips in Large, his mild annoyance that the woman who usually stalks him at cons and asks him to sign her breasts not turning up to the last one he did ('maybe she won't have her breasts signed on the Sabbath'), his various deliberate misspellings of Wil Wheaton's name (my favourite was 'Wiiiiiiiiiil', which was, apparently, pronounced in the same manner as 'Khaaaaaaaan') and his musings on LaVar Burton's travels ('Maybe he wanted to buy some midwestern cheese'). Ah, The Spine. Less a Virtual Comedy Uncle (that position has been permanently filled by Sir Stephen of Fry), more a Virtual Housemate's Dad Who Turns Up To Help Her Move In And Then Embarrasses Her by Telling Lots Of Jokes To Her Friends.
Washing up. Definitely, definitely washing up.
Maybe.
