Time Machine

Sometimes things happen in real life that are more random than even I can make up (yes, I’m sorry, some of this blog IS made-up. I know. Can you countenance it?).

Went for tea at my mum and dad’s tonight and they’d laid a small post it note next to my meal. It read in pencilled capital letters


Apparantly I had written it, and it had lay dormant in the lego, that my mum had resurrected when my baby nephew came around. Not sure why. One month olds don’t tend to go for lego, what with not even being to hold up their own heads. The chances that they’ll make a lego sweet shop are marginal.

My sister has a scarily good memory and told my puzzled parents that I had written this divine randomness. It was like a surreal archealogical dig. Instead of soil-lego, and and instead of valuable things, a load of bobbins that I wrote approximately 18 years ago.

Think mum and dad are probably going to frame it.

5 thoughts on “Time Machine

  1. Ah, the imperial bourbosity and his insistence that everybody should eat bourbon biscuits. I just wish he’d realise that they’re the povviest of all biscuits and that we’re just not interested.

    You should be proud of your younger self for taking this stand.

  2. Ah. Leaving cryptic notes for infants to find eighteen years later. It shows a fine disregard for the etiquette of anti-time travel. It’s what the world needs now.

  3. Checking out your bt couple vote type things. Did you know, ‘Adam’s’ interior shots are all filmed in our town. The shape of the hills in the background is the giveaway.
    The ads were filmed in a luxury development which has stood 75% empty since it was completed a couple of years ago. Adam could have the choice of about £5.5 million quids worth of redundant accomodation to live in.
    But we wouldn’t have him here. Oh, no. Because I vote for the CRB check to come back and the witch to put a spade through his forehead and bury him under the trampoline. Because that’s what I’d like to see. No other reason.

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