THE FUTURE OF ASK A DRUNK

Sofa so good

It was my son posting a picture of himself and me on the WDYLL thread. He's very precocious.

I just want to take this opportunity, now that Matt has uttered the word, to say 'sofa kingdom'.

You speak strangely, sir, with your accents peculiarly misplaced.

Moi? Perish the very thought. I speak an urbane and fluent English with a mellifluous accent understood and even appreciated the world over.

psst: check out toastyzone @ blogspot

Rex may take some time in returning to AAD. A substantial portion of him was quite unfortunately misplaced during a trial run of an experimental atomic transporter system. There was a software glitch, where an NAND operation was substituted for an XOR and consequently a fairish number of his atoms were sent to Coventry while the remainder were reassembled in Leith.

The technicians are working on it, but in the meantime, Rex is living in several rather large jars in a council house in the East End of London. He hopes to be reunited with his gall bladder and pancreas in time for Boxing Day.

As for my joining the WDYLL brigade, I think I can give satisfaction upon that head:

http://www.dself.dsl.pipex.com/MUSEUM/TRANSPORT/diwheel/motowhl2.jpg

Here I am, joined by my uncle Feckless, going out for a spin. My top hat and tails were unavailable on this day, due to some rather savage stains that required a crowd of dry cleaners several weeks to subdue and capture.

I have consulted a gypsy. (In truth, it was a dog with a bandana around its neck.) According to this unimpeachable source, the future of Ask A Drunk shall be similar to that of a flourescent greenish-yellow tennis ball that has been played with first by tennis players, then reused as a dog's toy, then lost in some tall grass. In gratitude for this prescient forecast, I crossed her paw with kibbles.

Seems like it was only yesterday....

The gypsy dog was remarkably prescient.

For the present the future of ask a drunk shall be thus:

That there is strength in numbers everyone agrees. But no one has yet faced full on the question of which number would prevail in a contest of tossing the caber, or opening a pickle jar with a stuck lid.