Wagon Wheels Keep On Turning

Sunday Monday Happy Days
Tuesday Wednesday Happy Days
Thursday Friday Happy Days
Saturday
What A Day... because I woke up with Deadfast in bed next to me, covered in someone else's vomit, wearing a pair of banana-shaped slippers and nothing else.

As you may have seen from the sneaky comments he left on my previous post, his Deadfast-ship is back on the alcohol (or, as he was calling it yestrday afternoon, "al-kee-hole").
He put his brief stint of being tee-total down to being left alone in a cave in the dark... he claims he'd licked some form of rock algae he'd found down there, and had subsequently lost conciousness and claims that he only came-around in the library. He has no recolection of how he got there (he seems not to remember grabbing my arm in the cave, or our journey home from Scotland).
He came-to in the library, and paniced because he thought he'd regressed to childhood and was somehow back in school.
It was only when I went to investigate the library door opening that he realised that he even HAD a library in the house.
*sigh*
There's me thinking he'd had a life-changing experience.

Oh well.

Anyway, he went out last night.
I drove him to his Gentleman's Club in Central London, the one above the Natural History Museum, and left him to it. He said he'd call a taxi at the end of the evening, and asked me to go and buy a pot plant.
I think he meant some marijuana, but I went to the nearest late-night garden centre and bought him a very nice potted plant. I doubt he'll even notice, and will no doubt spend most of Sunday afternoon trying to smoke it.

As I mentioned, I awoke to find him in my bed, mumbling something about "dwarves; they're everywhere!" and hugging my pillow.
He was naked excpet for some novelty slippers, and upon closer inspection I saw he was covered in sick.

He's staggered into the kitchen moments ago and explained that he had helped an old homeless man find his way to a shelter last night, and that the guy had ben very drunk on Special Brew (cheap and nasty stuff, available in cans in supermarkets and off-licenses everywhere). It was, said Deadfast, the old man's vomit.
I don't believe him, or his story about how he had given the old man all of his clothes to keep warm, but I'll not bother pressing him for details.
I honestly get scared even writing the words "Gentleman's Club" so really don't want to know what goes on behind closed doors.

I'm not sure what the plans are for the week.
Deadfast only came into the kitchen on his way into the garden, where he fell asleep whilst sitting in the water feature, so I don't know when he will actually be coherent enough to make any decisions as to what we're doing.
I do know there was a letter waiting for him when we got back from bonnie Scotland.
I didn't get a chance to open it, though, because he swept it into the library with him (along with the local paper, a Su Doku book, and a battered fedora that I'm sure he stole from someone).
I'm sure, as usual, all will be revealed.

I plan to check-up on the staff, make sure the finances are ok for this month, and then I'm going to see "where the wind takes us".

Have a good weekend, people.
I'm sure I won't.

An old tale of ours...

As an aside... http://sharkman.s5.com/LosChimpos/deadfaststory.html

Nessie is safe... for now!

I'm writing this on my trusty laptop, sitting on my bed at home.

Deadfast has given-up with his bid to find, kill and eat the Loch Ness monster.
He said that, during his time in that under-water cave, something happened that made him realise that Nessie was "... a beautiful creature that deserves her space and privacy. Who are we, Walter lad, to infringe on the tranquility of the Loch?"

Yes. You read that correctly.
He used the word "tranquillity" without thinking, and therefore demanding, tranquilisers.
Which is a first.

I don't know what happened to him down there, but he's locked himself in the library and has asked me not to disturb him.
I'm concerned but, to be honest, at least I know he's in there and he's safe.
Which is a rare state for that old fool to be in, I can tell you!

So, I'm sitting here now with nothing else to tell.
Which is ok, I guess, but it's a bit dull for you to read!
Sorry!

I could tell you all about our past, how we met, where we've been, and so on... but most of that has been documented in various newspapers around the world (although our names aren't ever mentioned because I make sure we escape the scene of the cri... the scene before we get into any trouble!).

I'll tell you about me:
I was born in a hospital, close to my mother.
My early years were spent happily enough; frolicking in the fields of Kent, chasing butterflies and scraping my knees. Typical childhood pursuits.
It was when I went to grammar school that the trouble started, and it was there that I met Deadfast.

*shudder*

I've just heard the library door open, so I had better see if he wants some supper.
Take care, bloggers of the world... thank you all for sparing me a moment of your time; I do appreciate it.
I don't even know why I started this blog; originally it was a fore-runner of my memoirs but, as time has marched on, I quite enjoy hammering out a few words on here.
It's cathartic!

Anyway... the bank is open, so to speak, so I'd better see what he wants!

A lost adventurer is found

Turns out he was in the cave... he was asleep in the corner, under a piece of old sacking, and I hadn't noticed him.
The only reason I went back was because I'd left a torch there... as I was about to ease back into the water, a dirty hand reached out and grabbed me by the unmentionables!

He was a little pale, but alive.

A good thing.
I think.

A missing drunkard

I went back to the cave.

He wasn't there.

Shit.

We Don't Live In A Yellow Subrmarine... we just holiday in one.

As I've made obvious from my previous post, the boat arrived (equipped with, amongst other things, a very large trawling net), and it had the small two-man submarine on tow.
It's a horrible "piss yellow/puke green" colour, and the controls are very difficlut to grasp.
Which is why I'll be doing all of the hard work, as per usual, whilst Deadfast sits in the back and drinks his Remy Martin (or whatever his beverage of choice is this week).

Now, as mentioned before, Deadfast and I have a history with submarines.
I won't explain it here (it took me a long time to get over the sheer terror I suffered at the hands of a small mexican Sailor named Jose)... suffice to say, it took a considerable increase in my pay to get in the damn thing.
But, in it I got, and off we set, into the dark cold waters of Loch Ness.

I'd been out yesterday, as you read, but that was only with a small handheld light... and it ended with me being hauled up in a fishing net.
The sub, however, has a huge lighting rig... it's something to be seen to be believed.
I don't even know how we got to use it, to be honest... I managed to remember someone in the U.S who didn't hate Deadfast and they put us in touch with a near-by research facility.
I don't think the words "eat" and "monster" were mentioned!

We spent a good four hours in the loch.
I admit it took me two hours to get used to the controls but, if I say it myself, I did rather well.

Deadfast sat in the back, having been in the Old SeaDog all afternoon (that's a pub; no need to call the R.S.P.C.A), and kept our moral high by singing a sea shanty.
For four hours.
Now, there's only so many times you can hear the rhyme "I've a whale of a tale, and a yard of ale..." before you snap.
It took me fourteen verses.

Deadfast is currently in an underwater cavern I found... I left him there, sitting with a bottle of something or other and a newspaper, whilst I went for a "scout around".
I actually took the sub straight to the surface, and had some lunch in a local hotel.
He's fine, I'm sure; it's a cavern with a high ceiling, plenty of air, and some comfortable rocks to sit on.
He's tougher than he looks.

I suppose I should go and get him....

Frogmen and fishing nets.

I've been in the loch for most of the night, with a torch and a harppon gun.
I kid you not.

Deadfast, in his infinite wisdom, thought I should "...smell nice for Nessie!".
So, he sprayed me with blood that he picked-up from a local butcher.
*sigh*
I'm sure Nessie would be a vegetarian; the amount of fish in the loch wouldn't support a large mammal like the supposed beast so, like some whales, the "monster" would no doubt survive on algae and water-based plant life.
Not Walter-based!

Anyhoo, I was minding my own business swimming in the loch (it's quite peacful down there... very dark, mind you, but peaceful) when I felt something snag my leg.
I turned, and just saw a blur as I was yanked up towards the surface....



.... only to find myself suspended above the surface of the water, moments later, with my left leg caught in the net of a Deadfast's boat.
*sigh*

For a brief moment, I'll be honest here, I thought my time was up...

Loch Ness, vomit, and my left foot.

I'm here in bonnie Scotland.
The sky is blue, a little overcast and cloudy, but it isn't as bad as I expected it to be...

I'll not bore you with details, but suffice to say we have a large motorhome all to ourselves, and we're parked-up by the loch.
It's quite nice and peaceful, actually.

Until next week, when the minature submarine that Deadfast asked for arrives.
Along with the boat, and research equipmen.
And chef.

Yes, chef.
Deadfast hasn't changed his mind, and we've been forced to ply local authorities with money and gifts so that we can explore the loch.
They don't know his plan to cook the damn beast...

A wet and wild adventure begins...

Having brielfy informed me of his whereabouts over the last week or so (far too sordid for me to repeat; suffice to say, I had to go and vomit AND masturbate after he told me... though not at the same time), Deadfast has told me what his... our... next adventure is to be:

He wants to find and eat the Loch Ness monster.

Yes.
Find and EAT the Loch Ness monster.

Not "find and photograph, and make our fortune with the Loch Ness monster!"
Not "find and study the Loch Ness monster!"
Not "find, kill, and present to the Natural History Museum of London the Loch Ness monster!" (although, since he is banned from the Natural History Museum of London for falling asleep in the anal cavity of a diplodocus, I don't think they'd be happy if he killed such a remarkable beast!)

He wants to find and eat the Loch Ness monster.

Please insert a very large *sigh* somewhere around here.