Damn, I’m tired. I only did three hours today and I don’t start until 1 pm tomorrow but the Hollow Bunnies won’t let me sleep between working hours. It’s turned into a follow-up to ‘The Sweet Man‘ but I didn’t want to use the same poisons again, nor indeed poisons at all if possible. I plan to let Ian loose on all sorts of events, Mother’s day, Valentine’s day, anything involving sweets with surprises inside. When he’s done them all I’ll give him his own short story collection.

Watching the children at work has given me a great many ideas for those Hollow Bunnies. One involves a delicate glass shell of a bunny, coated in chocolate. Others are far nastier. Once one of these stories gets a hold of you, it won’t let go until it’s done. It’s not a long story, but it’s a tenacious bugger.

I have now drilled through that metal 1/1200 scale submarine, have designed the little man and have the bits I need, but I’ll need to be awake and clear of caffeine to make him. I don’t need to be so delicate cutting the battery indents in the bottom, they are far wider. Also, I want to make something for another Bunni auction to keep our sick blogger pal going. I don’t know where to go with the Rolls-Royce model at the moment and the Jaguar XJ220 will take a long time. Something in 1/72 or 1/76 scale might be quick and interesting, and would be of use in the background scenery for a lot of modellers. I’ll find a little truck, I think.

There are Emails waiting for responses. Appy-polly-logies, droogies, I have been beset by a real horrorshow fuzziness of the gulliver and no mistake. I’ll get there…

None of those are coincidences. I’m just rambling because a) I’m tired and b) The Singleton is on offer in Morrison’s. £25 is still a lot, but it’s a price I’m willing and able to pay, thanks to some recent donations (ta very much, fellows). All blog donations are from private individuals. Not one penny has come my way from Big Tobacco or Big Booze or Big Salt or any of the other cheapskate bastards I get accused of working for. Not that I’m hinting but (ahem) HINT! The antis think you’re paying me anyway. You might as well.

Right. What was this post about again? Oh yes, coincidences.

It seemed a little odd to me that the papers have been full of ‘we might get hit by an asteroid’ for months, then one conveniently does a close fly-by, there are rocks landing in Russia and reports of big, big meteors all over the world. How did the papers know they were coming? Apparently NASA didn’t know and certainly the Russians weren’t expecting the arrival of solid ground from entirely the wrong direction.

Then there is all this hoo-ha about breast milk and formula milk and as if by magic, formula milk is suddenly traded harder than gold. It’s all down to a shortage of maize starch, apparently, even though cornflour is still very cheap.

I have some maize starch in the lab I think, or maybe I gave it to someone. I had high amylose maize, waxy maize and everything in between but that project was 20 years ago so it’s probably all gone. if there’s any left I’ll put it on eBay and the formula milk people can pay me in gold ingots.

Clegg keeps buggering up Cameron’s idiot plans (usually by proposing something even more idiotic) and suddenly he has his own Savile affair right under his nose. The BBC Savile report is released and redacted harder than the staff list for MI5 and some bloke on a soap opera is now accused of interfering with young ladies at a time so far in the past it must have been a previous life.

Are we being desensitised to kiddie fiddling? It has reached the point, for me, where the news says ‘Another baby-poker found!’ and I roll my eyes and think of the Paedofinder General. It seems odd that so many of these celebrities have fiddled so many kiddies each over so many years, and yet only now (now the celebs have some money) all their victims are miraculously able to find it in themselves to come forward. All at once. Altogether, at least a thousand. It’s a miracle that would make God gasp in awe.

This is why I don’t know where to take the Rolls model. I was going to put Jimmy Saliva in the back with a smoking child, but there are so many alternatives now.

There are rumours that the Catholic church was involved with paedo rings (it is, it seems, the One Ring to Fiddle with Them All) and it’s also rumoured that the current Pope found out about it and said ‘Sod this for a game of Onward Christian Soldiers, I’m off’. Meanwhile, one of his Bishops has called for priests to be allowed to marry. That’s a good idea. If they have a wife they might not be so attracted to the choir. They won’t have to diddle the parishioner’s kids, they’ll have their own at home.

Next comes the unfulfilled coincidence. We are being told, over and over, that a solar flare will make the power grids die. What will really make the power grids die is the incompetence and idiocy of government and the smelly Green people who think that washing is eco-crime. So is keeping old people and babies alive.

However, the scapegoat is in place. When the lights go out it will be the fault of the Sun even though, when the lights go out at night, the Sun is on the other side of the planet, shrugging and saying ‘What? I didn’t do a thing’..

Nobody will notice. Only the Moon will look surprised. But then, it always does. When it rises it looks down on Earth and has that  ‘What the hell is that thing?’ look on its face every time.

You’d think it would remember by now but then the moon is hollow too.

I used to have books on ‘spaceship moon’ and ‘hollow earth’ a long time ago. They made no sense and I could debunk them before I was 20. The Hollow Bunnies will have to be more credible than that.

I’ve just read back over that and decided to increase my daily sleep quota to a minimum of six hours. Sod it, I’m hitting ‘post’ anyway, Some bits made me laugh.



15 thoughts on “Coincidences

    • Well, no. The priest thing is entirely a matter for the Catholic church, it’s their internal rules and nobody’s law.

      Still, I have to wonder what will happen if it all goes ahead and a Catholic priest decides to marry… his boyfriend. In his own church.

      The Vatican will go into meltdown. That will call for beer and smoke flavoured popcorn so you don’t have to take your eyes off the screen at all.


  1. Enjoyed the post. Your use of the kiddie words resulted in an advert at the foot of the page. Placed there by WordPress.

    “Thousands of teens in foster care would love to put up with you”

    Maybe they would. I wouldn’t.


    • Thousands of teens? The ones who turn up to those Farcebook-advertised parties, no doubt.

      None of them could put up with me. I’d be Victorian Dad and there is not a child currently alive in the UK who could stand it. Most of them are too fat to get up chimneys anyway.


  2. Pleased at your news about the 1/1,200-scale atomic sumbarine….

    Gobsmacked to find that you must have got some fibre-optic, or something, thin enough for the Captain’s fag…but I expect we’ll say that it’s a cigar (which will be fine.) D’you want me to send an orange diode, or have you got one? (Red will do anyway if that’s what you’re planning.)

    Golly, I can’t wait.


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