Thursday’s Elite Gibberish

I don’t know what to write about. I’m drawing a rare mental blank, so I think I’ll work with that to begin with. A blockage is no good, whether that be the kitchen sink, the humble toilet, or a gargantuan mind of epic proportions, the result is always the same. That shit will back up, have nowhere to go and eventually, it will burst loose and spew back the way it came, along with a deluge of stuck ideas, all rushing along with the outgoing torrent of mental potential. That’s my biggest concern. Missing ideas and stories. But I think I covered the block analogy well enough. Shall we proceed with the next order of business? Perhaps.

Today. I woke up at 8am. Well, to be precise, my phone tried to wake me up at 8am… I snoozed that sucker for another half hour before eventually dragging my ass out of bed. It was a struggle. My blanket was heavy, my bed was warm, the air was cold and I was naked. I didn’t have time for this shit. One of the downsides of being (I’ll be generous here and call it) lazy is, you don’t really want to get out of bed, but then you realise how full your bladder is and you have to make a choice. A hard choice. So you get up and go for a wizz. I remember a mate told me once he got up for a pee, was half asleep and wondered “what’s that sound?…” Turns out he didn’t lift the lid, that sound was a healthy dose of piss hitting the lid and spraying all over the floor. I’m surprised he managed to get his fucking pants down with such an engaged mind. Winning.

I think I ate too much. But the burger was so good. There’s this kick ass bakery that just opened at the shopping centre just up the road, and they suck me in almost every time I ride past. “Sausage rolls, pies, hot dogs, beef and gravy rolls. All $3.50. Burgers $6.50”. Wanna know how the suck you in? I’ll tell you anyway, you’ve gotten this far. What happens is the bloke who runs it, he gets his offsider to stand out the front near the main entrance and tell every single person the specials. Of that doesn’t work, they have donuts, éclairs, rocky road, fudge. Mountains of diabetes just waiting to be devoured. So out of curiosity you take a wander in… 9/10, you’ll leave with more shit than you thought you wanted because he’ll add a can of soft drink in with the burger and call it 8 flat. Want a sausage roll and burger? Ten bob buddy. Cheap food. Homemade pastries and desserts. Friendly staff. These guys are my favourite bakery in town now. And they’re close to home. I reckon he could sell ice to an eskimo. I sure as hell didn’t want a donut too, but for $2.00 for a jam and cream, who am I to say no?

I’ll tell you another thing. People watching. A fine sport in my opinion. I’ve read some ideas on how to spice up a solo or due trip of doing fuck all. One of them includes a game called “Secret Agent”. Basically the premise of this game is find a stranger. Any stranger. Have you found one? You have? Ok. Good. Now what you have to do is follow them. Discreetly. Be inconspicuous. Be the fly on the wall. Be that ugly kid at the party no one notices. Perfect. You’re in fine form and ready to initiate phase 2, “What are they doing?” Now this bit is entirely up to you. What sort of spy are they? Are they dressed for a certain task? What are they looking at. How long can you follow them and pick up what they pick up before they notice? Use your imagination, this is your game.

Another one is “Spotter”. This one is where you take one end of the shopping centre and your friend takes another. Now what you do is one of you picks a target. Find one that doesn’t stick out too much, one that will require the spotter to have a strong sense of description to describe the appearance to the watcher. Use texting. Small clues. Vague. Brown hair. Pearl earrings. Black handbag with scaled texture. Be one with your inner espionage agent. Tail them but if you see your watcher, don’t give it away. Mix it up. Walk away from the target. Be subtle but don’t make it impossible. Hooker red lipstick. Blue eye shadow. Possibly an older lady. Smells like cats. That sort of thing. Before you know it, you’ve spent 40 minutes stalking a stranger. An elderly woman in fact. I’m surprised her sensory perception hasn’t clicked resulting in a violent and abrasive attack of heavy handbag and crone’s nails, you weird bastard.

I had quite a lot of important stuff happen today, but I can’t be fucked writing about it just yet. Perhaps later, when my belly isn’t so full and my creative block has dissipated. Maybe that’s the connection. My body is so exhausted and breaking down this epic feed that it’s blocking my juice. But maybe it’s all in my head coz this shit was quite entertaining and I don’t have a fucking block. Peace out ✌ I’m gonna get ready to hang with a mate 🙂 Someone who has the same love for Cracked.com that I do haha. Thanks for reading all, it’s been a pleasure as always 🙂

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