Frisbee, the ultimate disc to carry on your travels to Antarctica. I like throwing Frisbee’s, but recently I was caught without my Frisbee (a penguin ate it), so I had to improvise.

My first thought was using a dinner plate, hard, ceramic, disc shaped, an adequate replacement. However, after a few wayward throws into a brick wall (and the back of someone’s head) the chef put an end to my first idea.

My second idea was sound technology, an iPad, not smash-able like a dinner plate, but not as round. Throwing the iPad proved more difficult than the plate, but soon a small circle gathered. Five minutes later and I thought I had solved my Frisbee conundrum, but then the iPad’s owner showed up, he was not pleased with my second idea.

I was feeling defeated, I had no other ideas for Frisbee’s, so I reluctantly reached into my bag and pulled out my back-up Frisbee. Unfortunately, a penguin was nearby, it attacked me and ate my back-up Frisbee.

Penguins must really like Frisbee’s.

I have realised that it is tricky to see in the dark. In fact I really can’t see.

This reminds me of one time with a date. The lights were off, and I couldn’t see my date at all.

So all night I’m sitting there wondering what my date looks like. Maybe a blemish here, or a dark spot there. Fortunately, through the great sense of touch I could tell that my date was of an average size.

But I was still unsure what I should do next, I couldn’t turn the lights on, the power was out, but I could risk it.

So I leant over the table, grabbed my date, eased my mouth closer… At this stage I was probably moving in slow motion, but it was pitch black, so I couldn’t see.

And as my lips touched my date, I knew that it was love. My date and I shared a wonderful moment. And then at last, I finally ate my date.

It was delicious.

 

I’m sure I’m forgetting something, and it’s been bugging me all day. If only I could remember what I need to do today.

Let’s see, it’s Tuesday. Did I bring the bins in? That’s a Tuesday task, and guess what, they’re still just sitting out the front. That must be it, I’ll just bring them back in.

All done, but I have a funny feeling that bringing in the bins isn’t what I should remember. Maybe I need to go to the toilet, I let a couple go while I brought the bins back in. And they smelt bad.

Nope, it wasn’t that. Maybe I need to go to the gym, those bins were a little heavy. Must be a weights day. I think I’ll take it easy though, I’m not as strong when I’m trying to remember what I forgot.

Well, that was a good weights session, but I don’t feel like it’s what I forgot to do. I think it’s time for a nap, let my brain sleep on it. I’m sure I’ll remember.

Zzzzzzzzzz……………Zzzzzzzzzz………………Zzzzzzzzzz

THE BINS! I forgot to put out the bins!

I’m often asked if I want a hand, and to be honest I already have two, so I don’t require another, but…

I do wanna see you rip or cut off your own hand and give it to me. I feel it would be a fitting gesture, since you did just offer it to me, but…

If for some reason you think it’s unwise to rip or cut off your own hand I would suggest that you don’t offer me a hand in the first place. However, because I already have two hands I will honour your wish for your hand to remain attached, but…

Sooner or later someone will ask me that question and I will ignite my lightsaber and remove their hand before continuing along my way. After all, they did just offer.

I want to get a beard, they look good. But I don’t want a beard that looks good, I want a beard that looks amazing!

Beards are pretty normal, I’ve seen quite a few recently. Some have been well kept, while others have just been rough and ragged. Both look alright, but they’re really not my style.

I want to dye my beard. I want my beard to look like I’ve been eating human flesh and blood is all over my beard. That seems like an amazing beard to me.

Of course the problem is that I don’t know where to get a beard. The shops don’t sell real ones, and the real ones are non-transferable for some reason. It’s strange, but when I do find a real one I’ll dye it blood red.

I often go to the shops. My favourite things are squishy hand-sized objects, fruit, vegetables, muffins and chocolate, those sort of things. I like them most because all I want to do is throw them at someone.

I wanna start a food fight.

When it comes to ammunition a supermarket is the best place. Bananas, tomatoes, apples, pears, potatoes, grapes, peaches, avocados, lemons, mushrooms. Pretty much anything you find is worth throwing at someone.

The shelves and boxes containing ammunition will provide good cover. And the space won’t be too big, meaning clean-up will be easy. Especially if we make all the used ammunition into a juice.

We’ll call it Deadly Juice.

A few weeks ago I came across an interesting fast-food joint. It sold hot food, like fish and chips, hot-dogs and chicken. But it also had a selection of ice-cream, I loved it.

However, I didn’t know whether to get dinner or desert and I wasn’t that hungry, so I didn’t want both. So I decided to combine them. I ordered a hot-dog with ice-cream on top. No sauce, no cheese, just ice-cream on top.

A few minutes later I was given a plain hot-dog, so I left it alone assuming that they would put the ice-cream on in front of me, but they didn’t. So about five minutes later I asked the chef about my ice-cream on top. He thought it was a strange request, but soon obliged.

The reason that I hadn’t received my ice-cream on top straight away is because the cashier thought I was joking. An understandable mistake, but if I was a hot-dog, I’m sure ice-cream on top would cool me down.

On the weekend some friends of mine were debating whether we go out for lunch or home for a nap. Eventually food won the day, but it made me wonder if the two could ever be brought together. And I have a solution, a breakfast in bed café!

Here’s what I’m thinking…

You go into a rather large building with walls separating beds, some single, some double, a few queens, maybe a king sized bed. A waiter greets you and shows you to a bed, then the waiter takes your breakfast order. I don’t think the food would be too extravagant, just usual breakfast food, like toast, bacon and eggs.

You order your food but you also tell the waiter when you would like it served. Maybe in an hour, or 90 minutes. This gives you time to have a nap. And then an hour later your breakfast is served. You’re still in bed, and you have breakfast in front of you, cooked to perfection.

Obviously a service like this isn’t going to be cheap, you’re paying for a bed and food, but I would certainly pay for it. It would make my afternoon naps far more worthwhile.

This is the week that Star Wars: The Force Awakens explodes in cinemas. I have already booked a ticket for a midnight screening. But this post isn’t about the quality of the movie, it’s about when I can tell people about it.

In the lead up I have stayed away from as many fan theories and spoilers as possible. This is because I don’t want to have any preconceptions about the film. I have seen the trailers, and if the movie is as good as that, I will be pleased.

The problem for me comes at 2:30am on Thursday morning. When can I talk about the film? I know that many other fans will see the film shortly after its release, but I don’t want that to mean everyone spoils it for the unlucky people yet to see it.

So, I have to wait long enough to give them a fair chance, but it’s going to be hard to keep my mouth shut for long.

I believe I should wait three days, 72 hours, I feel it’s a good amount of time. That gives people Thursday, Friday and Saturday to see the movie. This should be enough time for everyone to see the movie.

However, if you’re really unlucky and still haven’t seen it after three days, stay offline, don’t watch the news and don’t go to church on Sunday! Because every kid that has seen it will be telling everyone the ending whether you like it or not.