Uncle Watson's here, boom boom, shake shake the room
Hello, you've got through to Uncle Watson, the king of the world, the God of the Universe. I created the world and all that's in it one day when I did a guff and it followed through with diarrhoea. Before then I was having a really relaxing time in the jacuzi. Now I have to tend to the needs of my subjects, such as putting them in my sack and hitting them with a frying pan, or teaching them about raves.
I'm a bicycle and I live in a mechanical bed with my friends. I have a sweet love called Traybe who is the mummy of the Marsh. Wait! You don't know what the Marsh is yet! Twat.
As well as being a bicycle I'm also a dinosaur. I'm the Lord Protector of Marshia, the greatest land in all the world.
It's all Cool Col Coolie most of the time except for when that gobshite Hornswaggler pesters me. He was a speck of crusty ass-flake that accidentally fell in the diarrhoea, which BOOMSHAKALAK'd out his velour ass. He's the divil. Here's a picture of him at a rave.
I have all sorts of adventures 'n stuff, like the time when I was the first DJ in space, and when I arm wrestled a polar bear AND WON. I'm the godly leader of THE WIG EXPERIENCE, the best band EVER, which I'll tell you all about another time, yeah?
posted by UncleWatson @ 7:13 PM
2 comments
2 Comments:
I just read all this. It was excellent, but then I am baked. 2006? Fuaarrrkkk son. Where are you now? Are you still a belm? You melt.
Peace bruva
It's a quarter past eight on a Tuesday afternoon, the first of March, as it happens. And the year is twenty, sixteen. The kids, bless 'em, say 2016. They reckon it's 20:17 too, fuuuarrrrkin havin a laugh. Typical. I've not yet asked them for other thoughts. The prospect, it feels to me, is not best entertained. I don't ask. It's better, as always.
Before she asks, and before I risk relinquishing the truth, I gather my mind. It shouldnt be hard, I recited, to myself, for encouragement. It did not work. So then I move on. She asks, are you going to try again today? In front of the kids and everything. My mind was not gathered, it was seething, it was off. I was off. How had it ever come to this? I needed to answer her question.
With careful consideration I responded. This was wise, I assured myself. It did not calm my nerves. She stared at me, tending the youngest of our children, but I did not understand her expression. My inability to understand was always at fault. She most probably wanted me to look for work again. That I feared. Why must a man achieve his potential so consistently? I considered that this was not an appropriate thought for the morning. In front of the children.
My mind was gathered. I stood up.
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