‘Madame, did you not see it on the news? The internet is down in whole of India. A cable broke in Egypt late last night. It will take at least fifteen days to fix. At least, fifteen. Until then, I’m very sorry but the internet is out of order, Madame.’
If you’re reading this, it means that I have just been delivered the most audacious excuse ever for a stuffed wireless transmitter.
On the upside, I'm home in a week. Hurrah!
Anyway
- trixie
- My birth certificate attests to my debut on a Saturday in the middle of May, 1977. You can thus deduce that I am a bullish Taurean, that I was born in the Chinese year of the Snake, that my Burmese animal is the Dragon. This means that I am wont to bellow, hiss, and breathe fire, to stampede, slither and fly. Because my birth certificate was stamped by a bureaucrat in service to Her Majesty’s Government, I am a citizen of the United Kingdom. Because both of my parents were practicing Australians, I am also a citizen of Australia. I have thus two passports both of which inexplicably contain photographs of some random grumpy refugee from an eighties hair band. This means that I am constitutionally duplicitous: I can change my mode from imperial to colonial at will; I can embody, at turns, Old World Charm and New World Pizzazz; I can personify the staid and stagnant as readily as the arriviste and anxious. I do not hold, nor have I ever held, a driver’s licence, a boat licence, a gun licence, a forklift ticket or a motorcycle licence. This means that I have never, ever had to moderate my alcohol consumption for fear that I might have to operate heavy or dangerous machinery.
2 comments:
It's totalls true!
Or maybe not!
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