Shh... Obo is trying to sleep.
Well, Obo's in luck here. I'm in the throes of getting ready for a big sample load on Thursday while working out what all the forms mean in the world of publishing and also working on building another, separate business on the side. So Obo (and everyone else) is spared the long diatribe this evening. Unless something gets my attention later, when I've done all the real-life stuff.
In the meantime, raise a toast to the victors of the Battle of Medway, and chuckle as the losers have their chip shops taken from them by the Righteous they supported. Now that's what I call Karma.
Also, the infantile fake-coughers have found a place to play. I hope to meet more of these feeble-minded, gullible morons as a result. I have interesting things to tell them.
For now, back to work. There is a hell of a lot of it at the moment.
7 comments:
Belated congrats on your publishing deal. Nice to hear some good news.
Excuse me while I cough. I think your blog is giving me 327th hand smoke.
*Cough*
It doesn't count if it's a real smoker's cough.
Besides, you're not daft enough to believe that reading about smoking causes cancer.
You'd be surprised how many are.
I love the hand wavers, that pass you in a beer garden and get into a stinking diesel vehicle and drove off (with much hand waving from me).
Hey Leg, congrats on the book deal - who's the publisher?
Anyway, this smoking farce deserves the voice of that true prophet Bill Hicks!
Thanks for the link. I'll be raising a glass to karma this evening.
I'm glad I don't live in Medway.
So apparently the Ciggy Busters september pogrom has been cancelled.
A pity, I was hoping to be there, taunting them with ciggy in hand.
And if it's ok to steal property from innocent members of the public, I'm
sure they wouldn't mind if that camera and tape went 'missing'.
I think next time, they'll need police protection to carry out such a stunt.
I've not come across this coughing thing. I live in a small Northern town and work in Manchester. Perhaps things will change when the BBC moves to Manchester and the natives in the town are forced out to the slums of Burnley. I must confess there is one place in England I felt intimidated into not smoking. That is Queens Park farmers market in NW6 - now frequently mentioned by the chattering classes. Ghastly place. Men in cargo trousers carrying their babies in slings. Don't go there unless you have negotiated an IMF loan.
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