Watership Down, Hobo's and Home Improvments

Join our Bunny Cult !!

Hello again, and welcome to yet another edition of Deans Weekly Blog, the blog that just keeps on giving (Like Bono, to starving African children .......). So what has been happening this week in my wonderful and weird world, well I'll tell you (Seeing as that is mainly the point of this blog). So this week I was travelling  to take my son to work, and I noticed as we were on  the back roads that there appeared to be an awful lot of splattered bunnies on the roads. And I don't just mean one or two, I bet I must of counted at least 12, and this has prompted me to wonder what has happened in the bunny world that has made all the rabbits decide that they want to commit suicide en masse. Maybe they were all members of a bunny cult that suggested that before the summer solstice arrives a big bunny spaceship will come along and take them all to a bunny utopia far away in the galaxy, and that by shedding their mortal bodies they will become free spirits, ready to take the interstellar journey to a better life. Or maybe, they are filming a new series of Bunny jackass, and unfortunately, the crossing the road stunt has gone wrong on a few occasions. Who knows, but it reminded me of Watership Down, and that made me a little sad (And for those of you that know my mother, she will delight in telling you the fact, that as a small child Watership Down made me cry, there's nothing wrong with that, I'm a sensitive kinda guy, and besides think of all the poor bunny children). Anyway regardless of the reasons, the roads of South Yorkshire are littered with the decomposing corpses of hundreds of bunnies, And that in itself is a little disturbing !




Also this week one of my close friends upset me by calling me a Hobo, now this isn't quite the insult it seems, It's not that I've taken to living on the streets in a house made up of old cardboard boxes, and newspapers (which lets be honest, is probably as substantially built as most average American houses, but with a little less wood!) or anything like that. It's not that I've started drinking various coloured fluids, cunningly disguised in a brown paper bag, so that people don't actually realise that I'm drinking Dettol. I haven't started carrying all my worldly possessions around in an old shopping trolley that I fished from the bottom of a river, besides you all know my thoughts on the design and operation of shopping trolleys, it's probably easier to manoeuvre a 20 ton earth moving machine than navigate a laden shopping trolley around the aisles of Asda (other supermarkets are available). I'm not even fighting over that prime bit of real estate under the flyover, by the graffiti and the oil drum fire (one of the few remaining oil drum fires that haven't been kept in storage by public services for when they decide they want to go on strike and have to pull the old oil drum fire out for the picket line). No why was I called a Hobo, well apparently it's because I had a slight bit of a beard, (I know, tell that to Alan Sugar) and mainly because I've recently let go of some of my OCD tendencies and instead, I'm trying the chaos way of doing things. I think this is mainly because my friend is even more OCD than I ever was, and her brain just cannot compute the abhorrent idea that instead of everything been hung on a colour coded hanger facing the right way, I've just decided to hang them on any old coat hanger, facing any old way, and sometimes without even ironing them .. I know rebellious.

I want it white... I think you'll find that I'm painting it brown again

On another note whilst we are talking about friends, another friend of mine who I often blog about and remains nameless (Julie !!) has decided that she will help me out by giving my home that loving woman's touch. So instead of living in a computerised technological bachelor pad, complete with optional pizza boxes, it will look more like a homely enticing love pad, for me to fetch my lady friends back and woo them (And I don't mean showing them my achievements on Xbox Live), now to be fair I've asked for a little help on this matter as it was starting to drive me a little insane (okay, a little more insane than I already was), sometimes it's nice to be able to relax in your own home, so a woman's touch is needed in such a sterile environment (When I say sterile, let me point out that I mean, it's very minimalistic and functional, I'm not referring in any way to my meat and two veg which is fully operational and designed for pleasure ........ Ladies). Thing is, my friend who shall remain nameless (Julie !!) is the same friend who bought the stupidly expensive toilet roll (that Simon Cowel uses) to put on display in her bathroom, and the same anonymous friend (Julie !!) who also when I go round to her house to visit, usually makes me suffer watching The Only Way Is Essex, and some sort of random Peter Andre (I love my kids !!) documentary. This might end up in my house being homejazzled, with diamante accessories and stuff lying around, which to be honest scares me. Oh well (Actually I trust her judgement and besides I get the final veto in the operation, and when she goes home, I can always move stuff and hide it in the cupboard, only to get it out again when she visits (I've just realised that she will also be reading this blog and may of worked out my cunning plan))

That's it for this week, join me again next week when I shall be messing about with aeroplanes ....