December 2005 Archives


06 December 2005

Dr. Angel’s Christmas wishlist

Ah, Shed fans!
It’s that time of year where I once again build a shanty town in my back garden and fill it full of children making the transition to high school and I write my list for father Xmas to bring me trinkets and baubles and assorted bling.
This year I have decided to share my Xmas list with you.  You porcine featured lucky lot!  I have decided, altruistically to do this as you may be stuck for ideas of what to buy your fat mam or your sister Sharon who lives on the rough estate.  I know you’ve never really “gorron” with her, but she’s family eh?  Blood’s thicker than water and other hackneyed lines they continually trot out in Eastenders relating to the seething silty pool that is genetic heritage.
Anyway, here it is, in all is round fullness:
  • A staffordshire bull terrier called ‘Roy’
  • nodes of ranvier
  • a set of strings and pulleys to allow my blood to be pumped only to my nodes of ranvier, thus causing a drought to all the new towns, as far afield as Skelmersdale!
  • the introduction of a system which requires everyone in the New Towns of the UK to acquire a license before spawning.
  • an attack of ‘the vapours’
  • a hot consumptive cheek
  • the Andy Crane commemorative urethral love egg n’ perfume combo coffret
  • shower pepper
  • a talking snake that bites people who tell me about their dreams.
  • a year’s subscription to either ‘the british journal of when men get hit  in the bollocks’ or ‘the international journal of when a man’s kilt flies up and he’s got nowt on underneath (illustrated)’
  • a minature version of the industrial revolution, featuring emmerdale’s Caine Dingle as the leader of the industrial revolution, Jackie Collins.
  • night vision goggles so I can watch my fat neighbour shout at her kids!
  • the Power of Love
  • a ride on that Rollercoaster Ronan Keating keeps fucking singing about.
  • an errant lover with an eye for, well, generally seeing out of.
  • The mask of Zorro.  There’s a lot of light comes through the wonky wooden slats that I’ve boarded up my window with.

what’s on your list?

Touch me! Touch me! I want to feel your body…

…as Sam Fox, eighties lezzer and chanteuse, once sang.  But enough of that WoS enthusiasts…

about this time of year my eczema flares up into the shape of the soviet union, I cancel all my goating holidays in the Ottoman Empire, Eurasia and Persia, and I write a strongly worded letter to the Holy Roman Emperor.  As autumn advances upon us like Gary Lucy, sour faced hollyoaks gaylord, you may like to take up some of the following suggestions.

1.  Why not rent out your nodes of ranvier for 13 pesetas per day? 

2.  Move all your posessions into a tube of Germoloids

3.  Shout in someone’s face “I am NOT a library and you CANNOT ‘browse’ over me, Sir!”.  Consider emphasising this by spraying spittle.  Or maybe a small amount of spew. 

4.  Start a street fight betwixt two WW1 war poets (I can recommend Siegfried Sassoon and Wilfrid Owen.  I’ve got a feeling that Sasson repulsed Owen’s adavances and the element of ‘thwartage’ will make for a good rucus).  Consider throwing some chickens into the melee. 

5.  Make an amourous advance on The Hapsburg Empire. 

6.  Get youself tested for artefacts, remnants and leftovers. 

7.  Invite a feeling of tension into your home. 

8.  Sculpt your body down the gym so it resembles a barrell.  Walk on your tiptoes and refuse to talk about the exchange rate mechanism until the object of your affections finally relents.  Follow this up by laughing in a cavalier manner as you walk away from people.

9.  Whenever you answer the phone do not attempt to disguise your voice but pretend you don’t know the person who’s calling, even if it’s your mum.  “sorry no, no Fred here, you’ve got the wrong number.  What number did you dial? Yes, that’s this number.  No, no Fred here. Take care now.  Bye”

10.  During a conversation, half way through,change accent. 

Let us know how you get on with that.

Until then, I remain your humble servant