THE Asylum

It’s nearly that time of year again, when junior whines, and the credit cards flex a little too much, and everyone is around the tree likes pigs at a trough first thing in the morning…

Myself, I shall have a nice roast chicken dinner, and play with my book token from Mother, and drink a few beers, and fart Old Lang Syne ready for the week after when friends come over, and we let off fireworks by the lake and frighten the fuck out the ducks. No, it’s not cruel. The little feathered bastards keep me awake half the year shagging themselves silly out the back at 3am. I’m just getting my own back.  One Christmas I’m gonna bag me one though, and it’s gonna be in that oven with an orange up its ass faster than a bat out of hell.

Anyway, stop reading this drivel and go wrap up some present or write some cards. No, don’t buy the Crimbo booze yet, or you’ll have drunk it all before the big day, you pisshead.

It is indeed a late night here at Eyebee Towers. It’s almost 3am, and I’m actually yawning now, but I need to finish some CD burning, which is going on while I write this drivel for you larks to read first thing in the morning.

Now, in the time that land forgot, I shall clean my teeth (contrary to rumor, I still have all my own teeth), and then I shall wend my way to the snore pit, where I shall sleep soundly until later.

Why do we sleep soundly anyway? I mean unless we snore, we don’t make any more sound than during the day, and for some folks, considerably less.

Anyway, a very good night to you all, and may tomorrow, or indeed later today, find you all alive and as well as can be expected in the lunatic world of the Asylum. Well I would but I haven’t got one.