Coreyshead - Looking at the World 1 Pixel at a Time

Thursday, Oct. 3, 4 o’clock pm
No matter what we do, every year dad gets a little older. Ronnie took him round to hospital to see about the condition but they couldn’t help. Said it had something to do with the passage of time and his age. Despite what amounts to a rather hasty pronouncement, if you ask me, we’ve tried a number of experimental pills, powders, injections, suppositories, and salves, but they only make dad nauseous, sneezy, tender, squirmy, and greasy. It’s sad, really. We just celebrated his 79th and he could barely stay awake long enough to finish baking the cake. We had to eat it without him. What can you do?

Friday, Oct. 4, 11 o’clock am
Was talking with Geraldine over the back fence today when I accidentally let slip my idea about crisp glue. I’m always rather distressed about the end of the packet where there is nothing but the little crumbly bits that slick up one’s fingers so and are utterly defenseless against the dip. I’ve long thought that a simple paste of some kind would do wonders to stick the crisps back together and, not thinking, said so. Geraldine’s eyes lit right up at the mention and I could see she was thinking she could nip the idea for herself and win a patent before I thought to try on my own. More fool me but what can you do?

Saturday, Oct. 5, 2 o’clock pm
Thought I’d pop round to Juebee’s for lunch today and they still don’t have the type of sandwich I like, though I’ve asked and asked. The young man behind the counter was actually quite rude about it and I ended up having to give him a lecture about his attitude – that and his incredibly filthy hands. What’s so hard about getting a little meat, cheese, and bread I asked him? Marjorie says it’s because they’re a tyre shop and not a luncheon counter but I say if you’re going to offer tea and doughnuts in your lobby then you ought to have sandwiches as well and how about chips? Oh, well. What can you do?

Sunday, Oct. 7, 5 o’clock pm
The weatherman said to expect rain today but of course there wasn’t any, the fool – the post doesn’t run on Sundays! Then there’s the phone with its endless ringing. Ring, ring, ring, morning, noon, and night! It’s enough to drive a person mad. Martin says I should just answer the thing and be done with it but I ask you, what kind of a question does a bell pose? Martin says I’m being silly but, then, he always says that, and him breaking his teeth on bottles all the time. I’ve told him the opening’s at the other end but he’s just so persistent, gnawing away at the punt. What can you do?

Tags: Absurdity, Inanity, Silliness