My most recent post disappeared. I was worried I'd lost it forever. What a sad thing it would have been. Literary gems, like "it really made me laugh" and "unsavoury elements, that's all" lost to the mists of time.
It doesn't bear thinking about.
I shouldn't complain, of course. During the Blitz, Blogger was often down for days at a time. And you couldn't blog at night, in case the Jerrys were able to navigate by keystrokes and shouts of acerbic banality.
Blogging was rationed too. Each family was only allowed one blog post per week, and were only allowed to link to Youtube videos under five minutes long (such as a hilarious Vera Lynn/George Formby mash-up, or a funny cat that looked like Nye Bevan).
So we should be grateful for what we've got.
Everything is back to normal, and I don't have to worry about a bomb falling on my leg.
In a way, wartime Britons had it worse than I do. In a way.
Also, we have Twitter. In the 40s, even MySpace's 'Tom' was just a blink in his programmer's eye.
So why not take advantage of our hard-won freedom, with another edition of:
The Least Bad Tweets I've Done Since The Last One of These (or TLBTIDSTLOT)
I'm slightly changing my approach this week. Before, I've done them in reverse chronological order (unless the joke relied on a particular sequence) because that's how it works on Twitter - the newest at the top.
But people will presumably read these downwards. And I want them to have an accurate reflection of my declining mental state. So from now on, it will go old > new.
YOU NEEDED TO KNOW THAT.
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I've been doing some spring cleaning. These slinkies are so dusty! AHAHA! JOKEJOKEJOKE! Seriously, I have been cleaning. No laughing matter.
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You wouldn't believe all the dead things I've found. Laurence Olivier was down the side of the fridge - his corpse was immaculate.
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Cleaning is too much work. I want a disposable house, but according to Al Gore it would be "wasteful" and "please get off my property, sir".
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"I'm feeling a bit peckish" - Gregory Peck.
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There's something incredibly evocative about the smell of bleach. And the taste. Akin to the wistful childhood nostalgia of A.A. Milne.
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There's a magpie superstition to acknowledge all human salutes and greetings with a perfunctory "yeah, yeah, thanks" and an eye roll.
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I'm wearing a pink wristband which signifies my opposition to wrist-tans.
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Every time I check my FreeCell statistics, my guardian angel stubs out a cigarette and mutters "What's the point?" under her breath.
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There were laptops found in Pompeii with less dust on them than mine.
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In my sleep, I was workshopping a joke about the cast of Friends being in the boatrace.
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Courteney can cox, Lisa Kud row and David's a good Schwimmer. Surely it's been done before, but my subconscious is derivative.
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I regret anything.
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I'm not sure if I "get" mornings.
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People who use emoticons are the same people that use facial expressions all the time in real life. I save mine for special occasions. 8*>
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I don't lose my temper per se, but I do keep it on a very long leash.
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If my name was Otto, I'd write my motto on my botto. But I'm not called Otto.
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All pedants who say "actually, it's a PAIR OF COMPASSES" should be given a pair of pair of compassess wounds in the leg.
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I'm halfway there, and I'm still not sure if this swastika tattoo loyalty card is a good deal or not.
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Q: What do you get if you cross a stick with another stick? A: A cross.
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Q: Question? A: Yes: QUESTION.
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Existential Tourist: VISIT OR VISN'T IT?
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It's always a mistake to only see things in terms of black and white. Unless you're a pianist.
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When the moment of truth finally arrives, I don't think it's going to make up for the trillions of moments of falsity that preceded it.
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I like to watch A Question of Sport with the sound off and imagine they're all unwilling subjects of a dangerous experiment.
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No matter how much money we send Amnesty, they still seem reluctant to release that candle. Sort it out.
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Didn't wash my mug over Easter. Now this morning's coffee is tasting a bit resurrection-y.
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I just left 18 Post-It notes for myself, all saying: STOP WASTING POST-ITS.
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Context is quay.
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Pineapple ǝʞɐɔ.
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If you're going to slam a door, at least be creative about it. (eg "Flap on, you hinged bitch!")
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I appeal to a number of demographics, and twice as many demi-demographics. Fun for all the family (except NEPHEWS).
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None of you think I'm being presumptuous.
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I'm not being presumptuous, I'm being PRESCRUMPTIOUS!
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Just did a Google image search for "me" and I wasn't anywhere on the first 20 pages of results. I call bullshit.
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Oh hang on - just turned SafeSearch off... Phew - there I am!
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I should get paid to tweet by the government. Not sure which one. Probably one with no taste and lots of money. #dubai
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If you've never pressed a plectrum onto your forehead in an attempt to look like Mr Sinister, we're going to struggle to find common ground.
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What's so special about a lapel? I can fold my jacket any way I want.
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Today I will be tweeting in the style of someone who works in an orchard.
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I like apples. But this is too many apples. #orchardworker
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People say orchards can be for fruit other than apples. They can be. But this one isn't. #orchardworker
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Those Magners adverts are all lies. PEOPLE ARE DYING HERE. #orchardworker
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Today I will be tweeting in the style of a hard-working orc.
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Phew. I need a sit down. #orchardworker
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Today I will stop doing those things.
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Using *asterisks* to indicate emphasis is too vague. I prefer a !~EMPHASIS~!-different-!~EMPHASIS~! technique.
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If you tilt your head ten degrees or so, you look thoughtful and contemplative. But anything more than 80° damages your credibility.
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That's not my stomach rumbling - I've just swallowed a Geiger counter. We might be in trouble.
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For some reason, I think of the letter 'x' as "the new guy".
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I'm unashamedly populist. I'd never let my daughter marry a popule.
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I record the sounds of breakfast on an Eggs Benedictaphone.
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We live in interesting times: 12:29, 12:30, 12:31. But then we get 12:32, which is dull, dull, dull.
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I hope the phrase 'pretty as a picture' will be replaced by the far more lyrical 'fit as a .gif'. Try to drop it into conversation.
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I always preferred the uncut version of that Sammy Davis Jr song: "What Kind of Prick Am I?"
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I've just written myself out of my own autobiography. I didn't really buy the character.
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Someone's writing a biopic about The Human Clarinet. (He's going to play himself)
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Q: What do you call the captain of a ship made of Dutch cheese? A: Captain. AAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAgoodnightAHAHA.
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Whenever I'm at a cash machine, I press the keypad buttons with my middle finger. Like Trotsky would.
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I can't feel my legs. (They've taken out a restraining order because of the "inappropriate kneepads" incident)
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I think of muffins as "work tequila".
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Müller Fruit Coroners were unpopular with consumers for a number of reasons.
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Extreme fatigue has softened my anger. I'm now just sad and impotent, like a Viking, thawed from an iceberg, sitting in Starbucks.
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I'm under-eager.
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Phone 999. When they ask which emergency service you require, state: 'Chip 'n Dale Rescue Rangers'. The chess match has begun.
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Tip for young gay people: when coming out to your family, do it on a bouncy castle.
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I never had the guts (or the legs) to become a goth, so I had to disappoint my family the hard way: stealing light bulbs at crucial moments.
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My favourite internet meme is "maps". Thirty-thousand years ago, no-one ever used maps. Now they're EVERYWHERE.
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So, eight chapters in and I'm confused - The Lovely Bones isn't a biography of DeForest Kelley?
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My legs are hot. Trousers are the problem. I'm going to start wearing a sarong. And if wearing a sarong is wrong, I don't want to be saright
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"This is where the magic happens!" - Cauldron Salesman.
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You know those little shower curtain hooks? Good.
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I sometimes look at objects and imagine I can see the shape of clouds.
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I have a stain on my shirt. I noticed people were giving me funny looks at the restaurant. To be fair, it is in the shape of Jesus.
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What do you get if you cross a pigeon with the Prince of Wales? An ABOMINATION. #joke
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I bet they never asked Inspector Gadget to notify the bereaved.
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Just dropped my laptop on the floor. To imagine how scared I was, replace the word "laptop" with "baby", and "floor" with "contrary".
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I've always been softly spoken. I think it's because I ate so much bubble-wrap as a child.
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Since the rebrand, everyone calls the chocolate bar 'Wispa'. But I still remember when they were 'Cadbury's Tracheotomy Gasp'.
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You know, I think Billy Joel DID start that fire...
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You idiot, Mr Jinx! The correct plural of 'piece' is 'pice'!
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New documentary sub-genre ideas: flockumentary (birds), ticktockumentary (pendulums), Baroqumentary (Caravaggio), documentary (doctors).
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It's a waste of space to have both '4' and '5' on a computer keyboard when they're both basically the same number.
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The correct pronunciation is "KWEE-AY-LON-IZ-ROYN-ERRY".
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My favourite of the Romance languages is Sexy Czech.
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MUSIC FACT: The Michael Jackson song 'Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough' is about Pick Your Own strawberry farms.
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If you were me, you'd be feeling pretty pleased with yourself right now (and I'd hate you for it).
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Laughter isn't the best medicine. But penicillin is always the best response to John Bishop.
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Whenever the sound effect "POW!" was used in the Batman TV show, it was to indicate that the actor in question had been a prisoner of war.
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Sadists who try to drown coats in puddles are often mistaken for chivalrous gentlemen.
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I'm proud to announce that from this coming Friday, I will be sponsoring myself.
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A spokesman for Me has said "This partnership will be beneficial to both parties. Paul and himself appeal to similar demographics".
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On a personal note, I'm proud to be aligned with so respected a figure, and am sure this arrangement will prove fruitful for years to come.
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I'm sorry to announce that my sponsorship deal with myself has been terminated by mutual consent.
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A spokesman for Me has citied "irreconcilable differences in the direction we see Paul going".
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On a personal level, I'm pleased this has been nipped in the bud. I don't think I am the sort of person with which I should be associated.
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I'm eating an apple out of boredom.
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I'm eating an apple out of house and home.
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I'm eating an apple out of spite.
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I'm eating an apple out of respect for the Clergy.
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I've eaten too many apples.
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There's something irritating my left eye. It might be its anger at my right eye's advocacy of unfettered free market economics. Or shampoo.
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There are 2799 emails in my 'Useful' folder in Outlook. I'm starting to wonder how useful they really are.
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I've received a lot of phone calls this morning. With each one, I get more polite in an attempt to nice myself out of consciousness.
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Exaggeration: "I've been waiting for this bus for hours!" Over-exaggeration: "I've been waiting for this bus for 850 trillion years!"
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I'm eating my second baguette of the day, because I hold no truck with the Bread Nazis.
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I'm terrified by the thought of being buried dead.
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Why is it that people choose to come and talk to me at the EXACT MOMENT I've just put a whole cantaloupe in my mouth?
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Whenever an appalled stranger says "Don't you have any dignity?!" I say "No. But I have some digniCOFFEE!" and continue gyrating.
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If you fill one of those squirty clown flowers with blood, you really stand out at job interviews.
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I wouldn't be seen dead wearing one of those invisibility burial shrouds.
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If you went back in time and showed William Makepeace Thackeray a cassette player, he'd be all like "I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS IS."
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Making temporal colour comparisons is the new black.
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I think the least convincing aspect of The Flintstones is Fred's tie. Blue?! Bullshit.
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The 'Refresh' button is too small on this new version of Firefox. Now I keep having to press Ctrl+R like I'm Johnny Lee Fucking Miller.
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It's impossible to pull your finger out and get your skates on at the same time. Believe me - I've tried.
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I once knew this little wooden guy who'd light candles with his head. But we viewed each other as equals. He was more than a match for me.
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Nice half moon out there tonight. Or, if you're a pessimist, a nice half sky.
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I've never understood people who say "Rghjjjnolio ojkpo ppprrrrrl kf kf shru".
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Inspiration is like the French: it can strike at any time.
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My hair is so thick, Moses would struggle to part it.
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If you stop the cycle of violence too suddenly, you'll go flying over the handlebars. Don't be a hero.
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The thing I most remember about being a child is the distinct lack of Cognac.
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Film Pitch: VENTRILOSCHISM - Ventriloquist creates a wacky new character whose mouth is a tear in the Earth's crust. Learns to be himself.
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Film Pitch: GARY - Gareth 'Gary' Garner is an average Joe, but an above-average Gary. Romance subplot - ghosts?
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Film Pitch: SMARTPHONE - A new smartphone is invented that's TOO smart. Misunderstandings, subway chase, Ryan Reynolds. (Ghosts?)
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Film Pitch: THE ENGLISHMAN WHO WENT UP A HILL BUT CAME DOWN A MOUNTAIN 2: DUBIOUS HILLOCK - self-explanatory.
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I'm going to move to LA in the morning.
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I always think 'chauffeur' sounds like a delicious pastry. If I'm ever in a limousine, the driver had better carry a gun.
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Remember: you must also count your UNlucky stars, or you'll have an incomplete picture of celestial fortune.
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Do you reckon Lisa Stansfield has found her baby yet?
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FACT: Madame Tussaud was allergic to wax. But aroused by danger.
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Stern words from HR lady. "Pigeon-hole is just an expression," she said. As though I was the one shitting all over the post point.
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I try to balance profanity with profundity. So keep this in mind: A PERFECT CIRCLE IS AN IMPERFECT MILLIPEDE SILHOUETTE
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When the grizzled captain of the pillows tells you that you're getting soft, take it as a compliment.
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On my way home, I'm going to buy myself a big bunch of "hayfever is for pussies" bananas.
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I think musicians should reclaim the word 'fingering'.
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I had a very productive meeting this afternoon:
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(I don't know)
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FINISHED! My word, that took a long time. I should do these more frequently. I should also talk about doing these more frequently more frequently.
I haven't had anything to eat today, and have missed 30 minutes of the League One playoff semi-final. Why?
Because I LOVE you.
Now look at this:
Look away from the screen.Then look back.
Keep looking....
...
...
OK.
You're free to go.
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