The Sequel Of Anvil Boy
As a result of unpopular demand, I have decided to continue this hideous story.
Twice upon a time, in a delicious chocolaty galaxy right under our collective schnoz, a little boy was still waiting for Edward Excel's promise to finish coming true; the Royal Pigeon had yet to bring the blue grade the boy so deserved. Fortunately, Edward had given Yuck Ass the spider a magical image of the blue grade to display on his web. The boy could not see the image himself, for he did not know the secret finger ritual for making that part of Yuck's web appear, but the University of Anvilania could and, when they saw the C grade on the web, graciously admitted the boy onto their BSc Study of Anvils course.
As an aside, the boy's BSc course should really have been called a BiScuit course, as it had a layer of hard work at the start and at the end, with a sweet money-flavoured work placement somewhere in the middle. (Well, actually, offset towards the end, but then the squishy bits are never quite in the middles of biscuits anyway.)
So at last, the boy had moved in to his room at the University. In fact, I'm with him in his room at the moment. Hello, little boy.
Please don't call me that. Call me Mark.
OK then, Mark. So, first question: Why this course at this university?
There are other universities?
Ah. I see... So, er... Why this course then?
I'm surprised you asked. You're an anvil nut too, remember?
Oh yeah... Well then, how are you finding it so far?
I suppose it's been pretty good so far, but I wish it had been better. I'd like to have done more hands-on work with anvils by now. I reckon there's been a bit too much introductory stuff. Having said that, though, the lecture on How To Plagiarise Without Getting Penalised did come in very handy. You should steal my lecture notes when I'm not looking. Read them and pretend they're your own. That way, the next time you decide to pretend to plagiarise a penguin photograph, you can do it for real instead.
That's a very good idea. What's that over there?
Where?
Oh, it must have been a mirage... So... Had any insights into the meaning of life, universities and everything?
That's a very vague question.
Yeah, well, I can't think up good ones fast enough, OK?
Shouldn't you have written down some interesting questions already?
Look, I've never done a live interview before. Just humour me, OK?
Uh, well, I tend to find that life is like cheese. The hard cheese is too hard but the soft cheese is over-rated. That's why I like anvils; they're great, they're hard... And they're anvils. And you know, sometimes, when I'm thinking of doing something, I say instructions to myself in my head as if I were telling someone else what to do. This makes me feel as if there are two of me in my brain. As a result, I have, once or twice, absent-mindedly referred to myself as "we" or "us." I know I don't have multiple personalities, so when that happens I like to imagine that the "other me" is really an anvil. I call him Todd. Sometimes I really believe he's there!
You believe in Todd too? Wow! We should start a religion... If we haven't already...! Well, on that revelation we'll have to stop to run some anvil adverts. We'll be back after these messages...
Twice upon a time, in a delicious chocolaty galaxy right under our collective schnoz, a little boy was still waiting for Edward Excel's promise to finish coming true; the Royal Pigeon had yet to bring the blue grade the boy so deserved. Fortunately, Edward had given Yuck Ass the spider a magical image of the blue grade to display on his web. The boy could not see the image himself, for he did not know the secret finger ritual for making that part of Yuck's web appear, but the University of Anvilania could and, when they saw the C grade on the web, graciously admitted the boy onto their BSc Study of Anvils course.
As an aside, the boy's BSc course should really have been called a BiScuit course, as it had a layer of hard work at the start and at the end, with a sweet money-flavoured work placement somewhere in the middle. (Well, actually, offset towards the end, but then the squishy bits are never quite in the middles of biscuits anyway.)
So at last, the boy had moved in to his room at the University. In fact, I'm with him in his room at the moment. Hello, little boy.
Please don't call me that. Call me Mark.
OK then, Mark. So, first question: Why this course at this university?
There are other universities?
Ah. I see... So, er... Why this course then?
I'm surprised you asked. You're an anvil nut too, remember?
Oh yeah... Well then, how are you finding it so far?
I suppose it's been pretty good so far, but I wish it had been better. I'd like to have done more hands-on work with anvils by now. I reckon there's been a bit too much introductory stuff. Having said that, though, the lecture on How To Plagiarise Without Getting Penalised did come in very handy. You should steal my lecture notes when I'm not looking. Read them and pretend they're your own. That way, the next time you decide to pretend to plagiarise a penguin photograph, you can do it for real instead.
That's a very good idea. What's that over there?
Where?
Oh, it must have been a mirage... So... Had any insights into the meaning of life, universities and everything?
That's a very vague question.
Yeah, well, I can't think up good ones fast enough, OK?
Shouldn't you have written down some interesting questions already?
Look, I've never done a live interview before. Just humour me, OK?
Uh, well, I tend to find that life is like cheese. The hard cheese is too hard but the soft cheese is over-rated. That's why I like anvils; they're great, they're hard... And they're anvils. And you know, sometimes, when I'm thinking of doing something, I say instructions to myself in my head as if I were telling someone else what to do. This makes me feel as if there are two of me in my brain. As a result, I have, once or twice, absent-mindedly referred to myself as "we" or "us." I know I don't have multiple personalities, so when that happens I like to imagine that the "other me" is really an anvil. I call him Todd. Sometimes I really believe he's there!
You believe in Todd too? Wow! We should start a religion... If we haven't already...! Well, on that revelation we'll have to stop to run some anvil adverts. We'll be back after these messages...
Comments: 11
Jingle Bella Said...
6 October 2005 at 21:31
Blinky The Potato Girl Said...
"Okay, now the beginning of this story is lost forever, temporarily at least. But that’s okay, because it wasn’t very good and I was going to rewrite it anyway.
I’m quite scared. I ALMOST put “we were going to rewrite it anyway”. How many of me do I think I am?"
I also later wrote that my sanity is temporarily lost forever and it's definitely uncertain as to whether we'll get it back. But what can you do?
Lucie
7 October 2005 at 12:29
Blinky The Potato Girl Said...
Lucie (huwpootd hee hee)
11 October 2005 at 13:38
Blinky The Potato Girl Said...
14 October 2005 at 15:04
Pop! Said...
14 October 2005 at 19:27
Jingle Bella Said...
"Twice upon a time, in a delicious chocolaty galaxy right under our collective schnoz" I like this comment ... nice pun.
"You should steal my lecture notes when I'm not looking. Read them and pretend they're your own. That way, the next time you decide to pretend to plagiarise a penguin photograph, you can do it for real instead.
That's a very good idea. What's that over there?
Where?
Oh, it must have been a mirage"
Also really like that bit.
Who's Todd?
16 October 2005 at 08:15
Blinky The Potato Girl Said...
Lucie
16 October 2005 at 14:09
Blinky The Potato Girl Said...
Lucie
16 October 2005 at 14:10
Pop! Said...
18 October 2005 at 21:00
Blinky The Potato Girl Said...
And on that entirely sane note, I would like to add that Todd is a very anvily name. It sounds kind of like 'Thud', and that's a sound anvils make.
Lucie
19 October 2005 at 14:14
Blinky The Potato Girl Said...
Lucie
19 October 2005 at 14:14