So guess who just got a new graphics tablet?! ...any number of random people throughout the world, probably. BUT YES THAT'S RIGHT IT WAS ME, I GOT ONE! I've wanted one for ages and now I'm off work for a little while and have mountains of spare cash just lying about the place since I don't leave the house to spend it, I thought I'd treat myself. I also bought Sims 3, Funny Girl and The English Patient by Michael Ondaaaaaatje. But they aren't really the focus of this blog, so don't focus on them. Let's just focus on my brand new graphics tablet and let's all be as excited as I am about it.
Needless to say I've wheeled out MS Paint and have been sat colouring in for a solid three and a half hours. My eyes feel a little bit like raisins, in a really good, but horrifically painful way. Anyway, I've been working on some advice that I will one day give my children...thought I'd share it with y'all first; I feel everyone can probably benefit.
Here we go:
Let's begin with a handstand. It's a simple childhood dream, the perfect handstand.
Hands evenly positioned, legs straight in the air, a sky scraper tottering in
the wind. A good way to enrich the brain with fresh blood to leave you ready to face the world, right?
Already this year, six people have died from handstands. The rush became an addiction. They couldn't stop. They refused to stop. "My life is nothing if I can't handstand!" They invaded playgrounds at night, practising against different walls, swooping down into the crab if they lost their balance so they wouldn't look foolish, silently cursing themselves for missing out on the thrill.
I don't want you to become number seven. I don't want you to die. So handstands are hereby banned.
Don't look people in the eye, it isn't refined.
Don't shake hands, they'll assume you're poor.
Only eat puff pastry canapés if they're offered. Avoid devilled eggs at all costs.
If you feel a draft at any point, head to the garden. Undress and redress quickly. It'll teach you the value of indoor pursuits.
Don't give your full name, just use your initial - sew it onto as many people as possible. Repetition is king nowadays.
You may tipple champagne but only take coffee as an enema; a pint should do it.
If anyone talks of marriage, make sure you are entirely vexed.
Catfish are usually John Travolta in disguise.
If they constantly let out whoops of glee, they're probably John Travolta.
That's all for now. I hope my wisdom has not fallen on deaf ears. Woe betide if it has...Woe betide. Betide. Betide.