Being Mr. Kenny

I haven’t seen a moth in months, months, and I’m beginning to get a little bit worried. What’s happened to them all? A pox on population decline, I say. Next moth I see, I’m going to open it a bank account and get it somewhere to live, and make sure it’s got plenty to eat, etc, etc *.

I want to be seen to be supporting moths. Support your local moths, vote Moth in the coming elections. Moths for president. To infinity and beyond! And moths! (Plus whatever moth-supportive slogans you can think of.)

* Not really.

Wikipedia is a blessed and holy site. I read its article on pepper and I was fascinated from start to finish. I pepper people’s food all day long. I am in no way exaggerating when I say that I must put grams and grams of the stuff on people’s dinners.

Grams, I tell you. Grams. And as we all know, “a gramme is better than a damn”. *

I had no idea that the bit of pepper that we eat is actually a fruit. I had assumed it was a seed. Well that shows me up, doesn’t it.

Seriously though, guys, I am all about the piperine at the moment. Go piperine.

* I hate all those dystopian novels about the future, I really do.

I would like to put forward the theory that Insomnia is a real place, ruled by a dread queen, whose name is Vigil, and who sits upon a throne carved out of the frozen tears of orphans. I believe it is a place that can be visited, and some day a wonderful prince will storm her terrible castle and slay her to set humanity free from her wicked clutch.

And then her sister, Hypnos, the goddess of sleep, will be loosed to the world to set free all her call upon her name. But first we’ll have to find her. For you see, as the story goes, she forgot who she was and started working as a temp in some office. This is why all admin work is incredibly boring and makes you want to go to sleep: she has blessed it, quite unwittingly, with her wonderful gift of soporific joy.

“Slay the bitch! Slay the bitch!” we’ll cry as our hero raises his sword to cut off our enemy’s hideous head.

I can’t sleep tonight, in case you hadn’t already guessed. This happens to me sometimes, it’s like something in my head just goes “Ping! No sleep tonight!” and instead of flicking the Great Cerebral Off Switch, I open the Tap of Never-ending Thoughts and then get to sit there right under it, as a river of pointless trivia flows straight through my head. Sometimes this pointless trivia is negative in nature, and I worry about a bunch of stuff, but sometimes it’s stupid day-dreams that aren’t actually all that bad in themselves.

Like I might think about a recent happy conversation, and replay it over and over. Or I might think up a series of jokes that I could tell in certain situations. Really specific situations, mind, I’m always really annoyed these situations never crop up in real life, I would be the funniest person alive if they did. Well, in my head at least.

It all reminds me very much of my dog, Nelly. My dog loves to play with sticks. If she finds a stick, she is the happiest dog in the entire world, and will run around with it regardless of size. If she came across a fallen Sequoia, she would happily set about picking it up and running around with it. But woe betide the fool who tries to get the stick off her. For then the game intensifies and it becomes a battle as to who can hold on the longest. Or at least, who can find something to hit the dog on the head with to make her let go.

And that’s what my mind is like. At 3 in the morning. When I’m trying to sleep. It just won’t bloody well let go of its thoughts, and the harder you try to get them off it, the harder it pulls back. Except it’s only hurting itself because when it can’t sleep it gets miserable. Stupid mind! It’s supposed to be the cleverest part of me!

I am going to chalk all of this up to being unfulfilled in life. Or something. I need more outlet for my incredible stores of energy, and being a waiter isn’t quite cutting it. So for those of you who pray, could you possibly pray for the restaurant where I work to burn down but for no-one to get hurt? I feel a good burning down of my workplace would solve a great many problems. And I don’t think I’m alone in that sentiment.

I was going to say something about it being Monday tomorrow, but of course that’s absurd. It’s Monday right now. For shame.

For shame!

In your faces, guys, I am Belle!

You are Belle. You are strong, deep, and you are not a slave to petty superficial things. You are independent and allow yourself to see inner beauty without sacrificing your values. You are almost too good of a person.

Ha ha, I am “almost too good of a person”. That’s hilarious.

Which Disney Princess are you?

I’m gonna make my own web quiz about which bodily fluid are you. I think it will be great.

My parents had a radio alarm clock that woke them up to the sounds of Radio 4 in the mornings. As I was growing up, my room was directly next to theirs, and I grew to both loathe and detest this disturbance at the beginnings of each day. I felt powerless to stop the onslaught of news and current affairs until one day I discovered that my bedside lamp provided me with the best ever weapon against the dulcet tones of Sue MacGregor, John Humphrys and James Naughtie.

Not to mention Brian Perkins. O Mr Perkins! Where would we be without you?

Where indeed…

I happened upon my discovery one evening when listening to my own radio. I noticed that if I held the switch on my lamp between the on and off position, the lamp would flicker, presumably due to the contact almost being made but not quite. I think I once saw sparks within the body of the switch, but I don’t remember for sure.

This flickering also had the wonderful ability to interfere with radio signals. It would make the reception of any channel so irredeemably poor that to listen to the station was the most unbearable aural torture. It provided me with hours of secret mirth to hear my parents curse the white noise that so inexplicably plagued their radio before switching it off to allow me delicious silence in which to doze for a few more precious minutes.