IS IT TIME YET?

No it f*****g isn't!

Meet DEATH. We have had an on off relationship since 1999. He's come calling for me twice in that time, and both times I've sent him packing. Here we are at the hospital in January of this year.

He's a great sport agreeing to pose for the photo with me even though he knew I was there to kill him. He has a lovely smile as well, a bit toothy perhaps but that's kind of unavoidable when you're a skeleton. Of course the thing is you can't actually kill DEATH. You can shrink him to the point where he can no longer take you, but you can't kill him. He will be back. He always comes back.

But I'll be ready for him.
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On a lighter note, I was taking a pee in a public urinal the other day and admiring the tiles as you do, when I noticed the bloke next to me glancing down in my direction which is very much against toilet etiquette. Now I'm not going to make a scene in a public toilet so I decide on an alternative course of action. I pay a visit to the local tattoo parlor and ask if they can tattoo the words 'F Off' on my little man. Well to their credit, they don't even bat an eye lid. I guess they get all sorts of strange requests. Anyway, they check things out only to tell me that it's not possible. They don't have a small enough font but do suggest that I come back first thing in the morning and they will try again. What do they mean?

The above tale is of course a totally fabricated story. I just felt the need to restore the balance after a rather serious opening to this blip. Anyone who follows me here will know that I don't do serious.