In the style of Brady
I was cycling with my biro when she started to emit the high-pitched register of the wartime enigma decoding machine. "Sheila," I said - for that was her name - "We need to talk. I understand that you are an inanimate object, but that doesn't stop me from talking to you."

Having established that my post was 'zany' and 'creative', I proceeded to the next bit. Sheila was tall and thin, with a tube of ink going up her centre. She was hard-tipped but easy on the paper. When I say paper, I mean paper. That's a confusing image isn't it? If you squint a bit and bang your head until you're insensible, you might think it's clever. Try it!

Did I mention that the bike I was riding was fashioned from sausages and balloons? Or that we were on Venus, having flown there in my rocket wheelie-bin. That's funny isn't it? Cos, you know, sausages and balloons don't really go together and Venus, is, like a different planet. And 'wheelie-bin' is quite a funny word. Like avocado.

"Sheila," I said, I will make you a fountain pen if you tell me that you liked Duran Duran's 'Girls on Film' video. Sheila turned into a worm and conducted asexual reproduction. I covered my eyes -all five thousand of them. Did I mention that I was an insect?

Conclusion: any tosser can write this shit.
(frankspencer, Fri 20 Apr 2007, 15:58, Reply)