This morning as I attended to the minutiae of my day I wracked my brain over what to write about next. The feeling reminded me of a couple of lines from poem we studied for 3 Unit English – An Epistle to Dr Arbuthnot by Alexander Pope. Pope could be quite the bitch in 18th century London. He says of one of his peers -
Just writes to make his barrenness appear
And strains from hard bound brains, eight lines a year
Back then “hard bound” meant constipation. I could emphasize with this fellow’s pain as I too was suffering from constipation of the cerebral cortex. I was straining to squeeze out a few lousy sentences. The metaphoric All Bran was nowhere in sight.
I thought perhaps I could blog about the irritations of super market shopping this time of year. My ears had been assaulted by Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmas Time” at the Colesworths. My intelligence had been insulted by the number of mundane products repackaged for Christmas. For instance the Rice Bubbles box now sported a picture of a Christmas tree (made of rice bubbles). I can’t imagine what else you’d eat for breakfast on Christmas morning. Mince pies were every where. I know some of you are going to be hurt by this but I hate mince pies. There I have said it and its cathartic! Mince pies are a waste of calories. Chocolate coated macadamias on the other hand are God’s own nuts. I could eat my body weight in them, gain a few kilos and have to eat more in a vicious but delicious cycle.
That’s all I managed to excrete from my weekly “big” shop. It wasn’t the “packet of prunes” I’d been hoping for. It occurred to me that it was a beautiful day and the beach looked divine. Perhaps I could snap some cliched surf and sand photos to accompany a piece on how it doesn’t suck living near the beach. However I’m sure you already get that point. It would be a bit like saying “Oooooh look at me. I’m coastal. Aren’t you all so jealous?” So no nuggets with that one.
Moving on I turned to Facebook where I hoped to leapfrog off the work of other bloggers. I was immediately rewarded with a post choc full of fibre. Catherine from A Cup Of Tea And A Blog had put a very original twist on the Christmas Wish challenge that we has pre-occupied us all this week. She had only one wish but it was a hum dinger - she wished for the keys to the Tardis (complete with David Tennant as driver ).
Here’s the blog button, so you can check it out for yourself.
This sort of thing is right up my alley. Its so far up my alley, I can’t describe how far up it is without being vulgar. In my previous post I blogged my Top Five Christmas wishes and now I’m wishing I could take back my wishes and wish for a Tardis instead. Catherine wanted to use the Tardis for wholesome pursuits like catching up with family and friends. Mumabulous’ intentions are not so innocent.
I would use it to make money on the stock exchange. I’d go back and short sell everything on the eve of the GFC. I would also harness the power of time travel for some quality photo bombing and practical jokes. Can you imagine how freaked out Neil Armstrong would be if at the moment he plunged the US flag into lunar soil he heard a voice call out ” Hey Neil baby – that was one heck of a giant leap for mankind!”
It would be childishly amusing to do the rabbit ears behind Queen Elizabeth’s head on her coronation day. I’d definitely go to Woodstock to see what all the fuss was about. Anytime a baby boomer wistfully mentioned it I could say “I know man. I was there”. I can imagine the reply “Don’t you mean to say that you were conceived there?”. “Nup. I’ve got a Tardis”.
With a Tardis I could have fun as endless as time and space itself. What would you do if given unlimited access to the blue police box for a day? On a more serious note who your favorite Dr? David Tennant and Matt Smith both are some tasty English crumpet but I will always have a soft spot for Tom Baker. To me he is the archetypal Dr Who. Hollywood has plans to put the good doctor on the big screen – who would you nominate to play the starring role? It might surprise you to hear that I wouldn’t vote for Fass in this case. James McEvoy has that sweet, sexy but slightly geeky thang going on.
Happy time travels