Two age old conundrums which have confused apes for never: Which is more important, petrol or cake? Tough one. Good one. And the other… What does a bucket and a chariot have in common? That is a tad easier. Starts with an M and ends with an ape. Wuu. Lucky them! If you have been reading my gibber since way back when – when what? – or one of the hundreds of thousands of people to have read my book of gibber, you might remember my love affair with… The Bucket. Remember. Shudder. The One. Heartbreak. Ridicule. Agony. Frustration. Sadness. Despair. Delighted. Well, delighted when I eventually sold my old truck and stopped going on and on and on about it. My old truck which looked like a rusty old bucket. Smelt like fake tan. Kept breaking down. Which is the technical term for when you run out of petrol. Yes indeed, I am that clueless. Well, was that clueless. Slightly better now. Although this gibber begs to differ… Continue Reading »
Tag Archives: Fun
Duh Dumb Diddle Daddle…
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Just to be clear: Here is a dumb diddle daddle on how the dumb diddle daddle. Seriously. Alright. You’re smart. We know this. You’re quite aware of the fact that there’s a lot of dumbness floating aboot the air. Out there. Real world. Daily life. Every single day. Every single way. All could and should be so simple. Instead. Dumbness everywhere. Thing is though, far worse than dumb. Come back to that. First off… Want to hear what being hit by cars, ridiculously hot girls, frogs, ferns, mosses, mongolian, yachts in the sky, poolside murders, petrol, buckets, idiots and much more, all have in common?! Yes? No? Decide… Read on! Gibber dish is once again overflowing. Blogaruus building up. Threads getting thinner. Incoherent mess. Horse on before all is forgotten! Di-daddle on! Continue Reading »
Monkey Free Crap Fun!
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Dancers. Islands. Yachts. Parts. Practice. Bathrooms. Some things are better private. Ehh… Numbers. Some things are not. One new addition to the better pile… Jets. Finally I can now confidently say: Private jets are the dancers of the air. Finally, says you. I know, says I. Giddy up! Assumption off. Jet on. Absolutely funking mighty. Planned on doing a blogaruu from up in the air. Unfortunately. Tad busy. Boozing. Dancing. On a plush private jet. On my way to Vegas. All on a Monday morning?!! Nay too shabby. Bloody Mary all the way! Literally. Go on the ape. Did manage to get a bit of mental bookaruu scribbling in, at least. Le sequel could start a bit like this… I’m on a jet. Private kind. En route to Vegas. Disneyland. Doused in acid. The land of whures. Heat. More whures. Monkeys. Mind wobbles. Crap fun. And depression. Wuu! Can’t wait. Vegas on… Continue Reading »
Singing The Booze
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Last week. A boot. Changed my life. Hopefully you just sung that to the tune of DJ and last night. As I have been doing all day. Its true though. Last week a boot changed my life. Boot as in boat. Changed as in changed. Life as in outlook. Holiday time. Giddy up. 10 days. Short but long. Not even 2 weeks. Almost 2 weeks. Mighty stuff. Couldn’t wait. Pumped! Although. What do you do for 10 days on a big old boot? Is what I was asked. Which is what I was mulling. As I packed my bag. 10 days. In the middle of nowhere. No phone. Sans internet. 10 days. Jesus. Barely go 10 minutes without checking one of those. 1 day was an unreal laugh before. 9 more? Too many more? Might it be spreading the butter a tad thin. Might be stranded. In the middle of the Caribbean ocean. Not actually sure who’s going either. Ah no. It’ll be dancing. 10 days. Wonder what we’ll do. Quickly found out. 10 days on a yacht. What do you do? You, ehh, have… Continue Reading »
Sea! No Hangover…
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Woke up. Stood up. Swaying. Big time. Bounced off one wall. Slid into the bathroom. Drunk? Eh. Hungover? No. Should be. Thankfully. Not in the slightest. Just a tad tired. Drink all the fruity Merlins, Jerk and Merkatinis cocktails that I can come up with. Hangovers don’t exist in the land I’m in now. Figured that out after the first 3 days. No Fear to fear here. Plain sailing. In the land of the sea. Left my brain back at the port. Hangover off! Climb the spiraling stairs from my cabin. Hey hup. Fresh fruit platter me up. Brunch on. Stewardeses scurrying aboot. Smiling while I order. Cursing me with their eyes at my order. Good old healthy eating. Eat what you have to. So you can drink what you want. Wrap it all up with a please and danke. Continue Reading »
Woke Up In A… Holy Funk
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Fun. Here to be had. Overflowing at times. Can too much fun be a bad thing? Eh, no. Last Thursday. Funny night. Disney rated blogaruu, so a few stories will have to wait for book two! Unless you buy me a pint someday and then I will tell you all aboot it. Oh look, you can buy me a pint. Over here -> Paid content all the way! I joke. I swear. Fun night though. When you end up in a pool with your buddy, at 5 in the morning, both wearing swimming shorts belonging to the 10 year old twins of some randomer, thinking everyone else is going swimming as well, but they’re actually not, so it’s just ye, in a freezing pool, with shorts on that fit like thongs, you know it’s a funny night. Even more so when the randomer then… Continue Reading »
Enough Talk, More Writing! 
