About This Blog

This blog was originally started as a thread on the forum pages of an animal rescue site. Now it's here!

The articles you find in here are purely for entertainment (yours and mine) and (with one or two exceptions) are all tongue-in-cheek chronicles of the World (my bit, anyway) as I see it.
No disrespect is intended towards anyone unless I make a mistake and make it too obvious.

I hope you enjoy my offerings. Feedback and comments of any kind are welcome.

Thursday, 4 November 2010

The Day I Was Robbed Of Fame And Fortune

Yesterday, as I sipped my Latte in a cafe in Cardiff, my eye caught a glimpse of a yellow piece of paper pinned to the notice board that they'd hung on the wall for the students to advertise gatherings, swaps, apartments, etc..

For a while I was a little confused as I realised that what was written on the paper was somehow familiar, but I couldn't for the life of me works out why.

I read it - Oooooo! - maybe three or more times, trying to sift through that mental cesspit of my mind for some form of  recollection that would help me to put a label on this text and solve the problem.

I was so absorbed in dredging through my memory that I failed to notice that at the bottom of the page was a tell-tale clue, which would have instantly put my curiosity into neutral and answered the question  I was asking;

"Why is this text so familiar?"

The 'Barista', who was passing, was quickly asked if he knew the origins of the text in front of me.

He said that he had no idea where it came from but ... at this point he indicated with a finger the tell-tale clue ... it could have come from there.

The 'clue', which I missed entirely, was ....


Yes folks. It was one of mine and I totally failed to recognise it.

This is the article:

Unusually cruel literature

After rising this morning like a rather small, and less bright sun I realised, as I performed my pandiculation, that although I could (as indeed all men could) be accused of colposinquanonia and ximelolagnia, that I am not a bad person at heart.

Being adept in the art of adoxography and also a self confessed autolatrist, I am prone to producing the occaisional article which, to many, may seem somewhat borborygmus-like and from time to time include charientism's which could cause offence.

To those offended by my offerings, I can assure you they are merely witzelsucht and not intended to upset anyone ... not even the steatopygic and abecedarian amongst you ... and I would like to offer my sincere apologies.

Get those dictionaries open.

For those of you without dictionaries.

Pandiculation: The act of stretching and yawning.

Colposinquanonia: Estimating a woman’s beauty based on her chest.

Ximelolagnia: the urge to stare at women who are sitting with crossed legs.

Adoxography: fine writing on trivial or base subject.

Autolatrist: someone who worships him/herself'

Borborygmus: Bowel sounds, the gurgling, rumbling, or growling noise from the abdomen.

charientism: A figure of speech wherein a taunting expression is softened by a jest; an insult veiled in grace.

Witzelsucht: A tendency to pun, make poor jokes, and tell pointless stories, while being oneself inordinately entertained thereby.

Steatopygic: Having an extreme accumulation of fat on the buttocks.

Abecedarian: a person who is learning the alphabet or the rudiments of a subject.


I have to admit that I felt really stupid for for not recognising my own article but, at the same time, I felt rather proud of myself for having an article on display, even if it was only on a cafe's notice board.

When I pointed out that I was the author of that little piece, I was not mobbed by people asking for my autograph, nor was I in anyway congratulated for my skill's.

The response of the 'Barista' was a simple shrug of the shoulders and curt comment which I believe included a reference to excrement.

With that remark, the wave of fame on which I was ever so briefly surfing, crashed onto the shingle and returned me to nonentity-ship with a bump.

Does a notice board count as having been published?

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