Cast Aside

I used my chest hair as floss and braided my pubes into ropes.

In the 70's I was a terrible young man getting into all manner of trouble, my father thought it was best that I went to sea for a while until all the babies were born and everything had calmed doon.

It was late in the year when I signed on to the 'Slocum' under Captain Dampier a cruel and idiotic man who liked to dine on rum and cold vomit mopped up with bread.

It was a trading ship bringing bibles to the heathens of South America and weapons to the European logging companies so I felt as if I was doing the Lard's work.

It was a sad and oppressive ship and my only friend was Dick, the bulimic cabin boy. The captain thought my friendship with Dick was unhealthy and so left me on an island alone with scant supplies.

On the beach as night fell I shivered with cold and fear as I could hear all manner of ungodly creatures inland howling and hooting and calling out names like " Beelzebub" and "Shake 'n' Vac" so I stayed close to a cave and talked to a tennis ball I had named 'Dunlop' he was a right cunt and kept trying to fiddle with me as I slept.

Soon the beach was full of Sea lions fornicating which isn't as sexy as you'd think so I headed in land.

It wasn't so bad I was able to make a hut complete with bay windows and a nice wee breakfast nook. My main meal was goats who I would eat after a week of dating. I was a young man and soon grew tired of their possessiveness and didn't really want to commit.

There were rats on the island who would attack me as I slept and so I tamed a couple of feral cats, 'Miss Sassy Lashes' and 'Eartha Kitty'.

I lived off wild turnips and cabbages along with the goat meat and milk, ach the gas was awful but it kept the mosquitos away, and the rats oh and me cats.

I had one book with me, The Holy Bible, fuck me I wish I had brought something readable a nice Dan Brown book you know something a bit more believable. At least I had some shite wipe, Mark didn't last long as I had the shits and Revelations had blood in it.

Two boats did pass my way but one was French and the other was Italian and I was way too pretty to go aboard those vessels so I hid like an altar boy at a priest convention.

After 4 years and 4 months HMS Weymouth found me, I was covered in goat skin and my English was almost unrecognisable so I had not really changed much.

Getting back to England I was paid handsomely for my story by the Daily Mail newspaper and married a 16 year-old milk maid named Sophia but the sea beckoned again and I signed onto the Mary Celeste a brigantine run by a Yank captian.

I kissed Sophia and her very hot sister goodbye and I went forth for more adventure but who gives a shit about that ? what about the time I was almost gang raped by a midget boy band in Turkey? now that was hairy.

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Island Blogging

I like to look around the places where my father came from so I was glad to find that BBC Scotland have a program of Bloggers who live on the islands around the Scottish shores. You can click on the various isles to see what people in the arse end of Scotland are doing and thing and from what I read not much.
Maybe I expect people to see the brighter side and always look for ways to take piss out of situations to brighten up an otherwise dull existence, oh not my existence I'm talking about all of yous.
One had a rat infestation, the ways I could of made that funny, and without profanity I mean it was the BBC.
Then there was someone who was listening to a program on BBC 4 radio about seed stores in Norway, fascinating I'm sure.
Some woman got a new pair of wellies, white ones with red flowers on them (I take her to be past middle age by the taste) which led to a follow up post about how one of them leaked, she must of jumped into the air with joy, "yay! a blog post, I'll call it 'TRAGEDY' I'll save the funny shaped stone one for later".
I know fuck all happens on these places and maybe the BBC have told them to be as boring as possible and show no real emotion or feelings, yeah post cat pictures and tell us how much their vet bills cost because that's brilliant .
They have the Internet so they're connected to the world, I want Hamish McBeth on the Isle of Shite to tell me what the solution to Iraq and pro life or pro choice for weemen because that would be bloody hilarious .