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Ablogalypse Now

So far, I have not got a job.

One day soon, I would quite like one. It would be lovely for someone to pay me to do something. Then I could be just like a real grown up.

Until I’m finally all qualified though, I’ve only really got ideas of what I could do.

And when I say ideas, I don’t mean detailed business plans or life changing inventions.

What I have got, is names for businesses that don’t exist yet.  Admittedly, they are pretty niche markets, but with names like these, I’m sure they can’t fail.

See what you think.

Firstly, for indecisive paddlers:

Either Oar

For suppliers of ink to dirty magazine printers:

Boner Toner

For tennis players who would like their home converted to a cottage:

Game, Set and Thatch

And finally, a pony and trap taxi service, run by women, for women, which only takes them to and from the ante natal clinic:

Miss Carriages.

And now time for a feature which I’m calling  ‘Calum Is Worried That Miscarriage Jokes May Be Too Far, So Is Going To Play A Song. Quickly.’

Quick go to Youtube! Go!

Phew, I think I got away with it.

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The Second Coming

Impressive debut wasn’t it?

I thought so too.

Problem is though; standards have been set awfully high.  If this follow-up isn’t any good, you might not come back. And that would be pretty upsetting, after all the long, long minutes I’ve put into this blog so far.

So I’m sure you will join me in hoping that this blog doesn’t end up going down the toilet.

I need to make sure I avoid this. But not by that much, that would be too easy.

So instead of down it, I’m going around it.

The toilet, I mean.

That’s right, toilet seats.

From the classic wooden ones to the cheap public ones with the front bit missing, there really is so much variation and excitement that I could write about. To cover all that though is really beyond what one man is capable of.

So I thought the best thing to do to show how I feel about toilet seats would be to write a poem. (Take that preconceived ideas of how you think I spend my time!)

Isn’t it always a treat,
When you find a toilet seat,
Already warmed by someone’s body heat?
No. It’s not.
So go to the next cubicle,
Sit down on your bot,
And think of a word that rhymes with cubicle.

Beautiful isn’t it. Oh and I’m supposed to embed a link as well.
Creative and informative. This blog really is out doing itself.

This is a blog post.

Aubergine.

Wanted to make my first word of this blogging lark a good one.

Went for aubergine in the end.

Could have gone for cauliflower, carrot or even something that isn’t a vegetable.

In the end, aubergine seemed like the best bet.

Got a nice sound to it, doesn’t it? Sounds all clever and sophisticated. That’s why I chose it. If I had to associate myself with a vegetable it would a clever and sophisticated one. Not an ugly sounding one like parsnip, or a flashy sounding one like celeriac.

Rubbish vegetable though. It’s not got a lot going for it. It looks like a sickly pear and tastes like an old soapy sock. Plus it’s responsible with that whole moussaka shambles. Got no time for it myself.

So just so we are clear.  Aubergine: good word, bad vegetable.

(I was going to fill this with vegetable puns but I didn’t think there would be mushroom for that in a serious blog.)

(Lettuce just pretend I didn’t do that.)