OYG readers, I've just finished reading Dave the roofer's rant. I feel I need to humbly apologise to the blogosphere for the lowering of tone caused by his foul-mouthed tirade.
I know you're reading this Dave. You've sunk to new depths, you really have. As if sleeping with my ex wasn't bad enough, you then you knocked her up, now you've insulted my craft.
Insulting the blogosphere is beyond acceptance. I've changed the log-in details so hopefully there'll be no more unwanted visits or posts from the roofing fraternity.
Thing is Dave, I wish you'd ranted before I'd ordered C.N. Mindham's Roof Conversion and Loft Conversion (paperback) on Amazon.ca.
I hope you're enjoying the minus 45C Edmonton winter by the way!!!!!
I also feel I should offer a particularly heartfelt apology to Mr UberGrumpy. Not just for Dave the roofer's attack, but also because I wrote something that made you follow me, only to write something that made you unfollow me and publicly let the world know. I think I know how Jesus must have felt the night Judas fingered him to the Romans.
If you've not seen Uber's blog, I suggest you check it out, he might not be following me, but I still support him. Uber has a host of blogger awards to his name and has generated (at the time of blogging) a followership of 60! His blog isn't a patch on Mr London Street's, however, he does feature a soft porn picture of an attractive lady on his blog posts, so it's still worth having a look.
I would have blogged sooner, but I've only just come around from my opiate-induced comaette. After the speed-based activities of Friday evening, Dippy and I slowed things down on Saturday with some laudanum. It's quite an old fashioned drug readers, and like strict discipline, sexual repression and ingenius feats of engineering, it tends to be associated with the Victorians. These days you can usually find some in old people's homes - along with strict discipline, sexual repression and ingenius feats of engineering.
I can't say I particulalrly enjoyed the laudanum, but at least I got some sleep. I'd give Phyllosan a crack, as it seems to be doing MrC the power of good, but Dippy is in the driving seat drugwise. I've got the feeling she's building up to something quite major as she's insisted we take it quite easy with today's drug of Christmas.
We're going to have a few cups of tea tonight readers, sounds quite civilised doesn't it? Tea made Britain great ater all. Although, Dippy did go out to pick up the 'shrooms from a bloke she knows in Camden, so (your)God only knows what'll happen.
The last time I had the mushies, I spent eight solid hours talking to Steve's cat, Phillip. Phillip was unusual for a couple of reasons, first he was a she. I'm not talking about a transexual cat, although that would be quite intriguing. No, it was just a girl cat that Steve had called Phillip, although the reason was unclear and Steve did get a bit defensive whenever questioned on the matter. Second Phillip was odd because she had six toes. As you can probably well imagine, a six-toed trans-gender feline was quite the oddity in Lincoln, even more so after imbibing hallucinogens.
Anyhoo, peace out blogosphere and, once again, please accept my apologies for Dave's rant.