Side effects…

4 05 2008

Lust

The highly calorific confectionery consumption has to stop.  Today I’ve gained 5 stone and 7 pounds and I’m beginning to find it difficult to deal with the quantity of what I don’t digest.  Initially it was fine, I just sat on the toilet, and so long as I flushed every 54 seconds, the waste wasn’t a problem.  But it’s not easy.  I have to carefully juggle intake vs. disposal. 

So as the highy calorific confectionery stocks started to deplete, I found I needed to run further and further to the back of the warehouse… with obvious ramifications…

First it was 53 seconds…

Then it was 52 seconds a bit later…

Then there was that crazy jump where it went down to 37 seconds…

Now it’s at 13 seconds and frankly the whole system has collapsed.

Matron won’t be happy.

I hope she doesn’t do that thing… again.

*sobs*

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Mass consumerism…

2 05 2008

Mass consumerism

The chocolate ingestion is going swimmingly.  Who would have thought that 17 hours of non-stop highly calorific confectionery consumption could be so slippery.  I think every square millimeter of internal surface area is now a slick chocolately expressway.  I need only place a mars bar near to my lips and it slivers its way through at quite a pace.  In fact, in the name of science I thought it would be useful to time how quickly I can process a highly calorific confectionery item… 

So I attached a peice of string to a curly wurly (they have useful holes to tie string to) and set it on it’s merry way.  I love doing science.  Makes me feel all clever.

13.8 seconds later my curly wurly was out.  Well… at least… part of it was.  I’d clearly digested the bejeebus out of it.  Woot!.

Now this gave me an idea.  What if I was to tie the string ends together in a big loop and then use it to accelerate highly calorific confectionery through my body?  This would surely increase the weight gain process that Matron wants me to achieve?  I just had to give it a shot – you just don’t pass up ideas this good.

So I entangled 34 curly wurlys to the string and wrapped the other end of the string around a masonry drill. 

0.3 of a second after I depressed the drill’s trigger, 32 of the curly wurlys had made it through, partially digested.  Impressive, but sadly this is when I realised that my science experiment could have benefited from a little more design.  The 33rd curly wurly was in fact my tongue. 

*sigh*

Thankfully not that digested and suitable for  a quick spot of re-attachment.  Need to hold-fire on the highly calorific confectionery consumption whilst I await the glue to set.

Splendid.

 





Consumerism…

21 04 2008

Consumerism

So today Matron thought I should learn more about the lifestyle that I’ll have to adopt once I’m deemed ready enough to brave the outside world.  Matron explained that it’s appropriate to supplement my daily diet of multi-coloured splendid pills with as much highly calorific confectionery as I can get into my body in 17 hours.  She went on to explain that it may be necessary to liquidize said highly calorific confectionery to optimise the restrictions brought about by orifice circumference shortcomings.

That sounded like a challenge to me.  I don’t need to stinking liquidize anything!  I’m proud of my highly developed and delicately honed massive chew sets technique.  The only liquid that’ll pass by my resplendent lips will be weak lemon drink and paint… and none of that cheap rubbish neither.  Nosiree.  Only the very finest crusty and lurid lead varieties thank you very much. 

*hurrumph*

I digress.

So anyway, 17 hours of sickly chocolate ingestion later, Matron says I’ve shown some real promise.  I’ve managed to retain 16 kilos of weight, and if I can keep this rate of weight gain up, I’ll soon be bedridden and unable to escape her clutches.  Apparently that’s really good.

Woot!

Can’t wait for tomorrow.  Matron says I can up my ingestion to 17 hours and 3 minutes.  By my reckoning, that’s another 14 Mars bars.

Double Woot!

 

(and splendid)





Juggling judgement error…

18 04 2008

OK... So knife juggling is more complicated than I thought...

Matron suggested that as part of my new rehabilitated life on the outside, I’d need a few life skills.  Now initially I’d thought I should do something worthy, like design software or something – but that’s just altogether too sensible.

In my mind I should aspire to something truly splendid, like mime, clowning or gurning.  Sadly my initial attempts at the afore mentioned skills were marred by controversy.  In my earlier life I once hosted a children’s party where I was performing a death row execution of Biffo the clown.  The children failed to see the artistry and beauty of my excrucitiating death by electricity.

After several law suits I decide to change track… 

Juggling. 

Everybody loves a juggler.

But er… practice makes perfect.





Macro photography…

17 04 2008

Flibblant

I spent some time in room 27b of the asylum.  I tend to find this room cloying – the humidity is high and Matron just hasn’t kept on top of the weeding.  But I’d heard on the rumour network that some of the rarer strains of rhubarb were failing to breed with the llamas.

Ordinarily this wouldn’t be a problem, but Matron and I had been banking on breaking into the exclusive superfood market with our inspiring, spitting rhubarbä.  So Matron sent me in to get to the root or the problem. 

That was easy.  I uprooted our prize rhullama specimen and immediately found the roots Matron asked me to seek out.  But in a frenzy of spittle the rhullama effectively exploded before me.  Some got in my eye.  It stung a bit.  I felt mildly super.

Think we need to work on that.  We’re after a bit more supery.

Anyway… so I thought I’d delve into the fauna to check the faltering of the superyness.  The mini Flibblettes that are meant to ensure the llamas find the rhubarb attractive were looking a little meek.  Need to find some way to make them more sexy somehow. 

Think we need to get them some vivid orange pills.

Rhullama sorted. 

Splendid.

 





Cats on helium…

15 04 2008

Helium addict

I spent the day experimenting.

At the asylum we have a couple of cats – and this is George sucking down his 14th helium balloon.  Now Matron had bet me that there’s no way that after 14 helium balloons he’d still be on terra firma.

I win, although George looks a little shwoozy.

My prize was to leave George in Matron’s quarters …hungry.  Muhahahaha (Evil laugh).

Now my cell is pretty padded, but even I could hear the high-pitched wailing from 33 cells away…  I’m so going to be able demand a few gold slinky pills from this, seeing as I know the secret to a wail free George.

Splendid.

 





Reassembly issues…

14 04 2008

What have I become....

Matron finally got around to reassembling me after my head relocation issues earlier this week.  Now, I’m normally a huge fan of Matron’s surgery skills, but it wasn’t long before I had my suspicions that things hadn’t gone quite according to plan.

My pink and yellow pills didn’t cause my ears to shrink anymore. 

*Feeling of dread building up in pit of stomach*

So after 37 minutes my ears had reached the size of a small Labrador.  Those extra pinner dimensions were significantly amplifying sounds – like the rattle of my pills in their tubs.  That made pill selection nigh on impossible, so it was unsurprising when I couldn’t pick out my green knobbly nodules.  So of course, then my elbows started foaming.  I’d need to sort that out sharpish because the last time that happened I almost drowned. 

Panicking now, I had to think quickly. 

…or… I could forgo the thinking and just trust to my inner Flibble voice.  After all, thinking takes time and effort, neither of which I had.

It took a further 3 hours and twenty-seven minutes for my inner Flibble voice to say anything.  Apparently, as my voice later explained, it had been taking part in a sponsored mime.  *sigh*  The advice? 3 shots of weak lemon drink and some of the vintage maroon lead paint from 1972.

Worked like a charm.

All systems back online and purring like a rabid Siamese.

Splendid.