A while ago I got a nickname which didn’t really stick too well; “Coolbox“. Suddenly, Dave’s created two nicknames for me and he refuses to let them go away. They are as follows;

• ADD
• MonkeyFeet

Let’s examine exhibit A first, shall we? The dictionary definition for ADD is as follows;

Attention Deficit Disorder (also Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder) (abbr.: ADD or ADHD)
noun
Any of a range of behavioral disorders occurring primarily in children, including such symptoms as poor concentration, hyperactivity, and impulsivity.

According to Dave, I suffer from all of those. Personally, I don’t think I have a poor concentration – I just don’t think that he can keep up with me when I jump from topic to topic or from task to task. As for hyperactivitiy, well, I’m just easily amused. And what’s wrong with being impulsive?

Exhibit B. The dictionary definition for MonkeyFeet is as follows;

No entries found.

Ahh. That would be a problem. Well, as you can see, things aren’t quite so straight-forward with this little word. I actually had to ask Dave for a definition for this one because as far as I’m aware I have, and always have had human feet. Turns out it’s to do with my ability to do things with my feet, such as picking things up (such as pens) off the floor and bring them to my hands so that I don’t actually have to bend over or anything – a skill which Dave will be jealous of if he ever ends up in prison, I’m sure!

Unfortunately, the best nickname I can come up for him is “Bunsen”. Why? Well everytime he comes over to watch TV, he sits on my leather chair. And the majority of his visits result in him farting on the damn thing and I swear that one of these days he’ll leave scorch marks and eventually leave a giant big hole in it. I told him that once half-term is over and I go back to work that I’ll march into the science department and ask if I can have one of those heat-proof mats that they use underneath bunsen burners for him to sit on, almost like a hard flat cushion.

Unfortunately, whilst I only have one for him, he’s got two nicknames for me (or three if you count it when he calls me “ADD MonkeyFeet”).

Maybe I’ll have to resort to drastic measures and buy some ‘My Little Pony’ figures off eBay and plant them around his room next time he finds himself romantically involved?

Talking of women, I found this picture as part of a banner ad on a website when I was looking for Battlestar Galactica stuff. The first thing that struck me was that not only are her breasts bigger than her head, but that you could probably fit her over a car’s dash as fully-functional airbags. But why are they so unnecessarily huge? Since when have women ever been like that naturally and why would someone get them enlarged to the point that they’d need to wear a harness around their waist with a large steel cable attaching them to a giant military tank to ensure that they’re ballanced correctly and therefore don’t fall over?!?

On the plus side, should she ever have quadruplets and then during the pregnancy have a problem with her womb, she could temporarily store them in her breasts – two in each – until they’re ready to be born. And if you think about it, there’ll still be slits from the last time she got them enlarged for the babies to be pulled from. She could even do it as a general way of carrying her children around (and the tank is what makes it possible to do so without the risk of injuring her children). All she needs is a hidden zipper running underneath and there you go.

But, self-admittedly, I’ve never come into contact with breasts before so I’m not entirely sure whether my theory would work. When I went to the cinema to watch ‘The 40 Year Old Virgin‘ I made a mistake. During the scene where they’re playing poker and asking Andy about what breasts feel like, when he responded with “like bags of sand” I honestly (swear-to-God on my brother’s life) thought to myself “Phew, nice save!”

So if anyone hasn’t seen it and doesn’t know themselves – apparently, they’re not like that. At all. I’ll tell ya what though – that’s a complete missed opportunity on God’s design plans. Think about it ladies – you’re out with a guy, he’s bought you drinks, taken you shopping and all that would make your date together absolutely perfect would be a walk along the beach.

But OH NO! You live slap-bang in the center of whichever country you reside in and there are no beaches for miles. Fortunately, you’ve got sand in your breasts. Just undo the zipper underneath and out comes all the sand ready for you to walk on. But what of the sea? Well, you’re sensible and don’t want to be taken advantage of by your date – so before leaving you got yourself a drink of water so that you can sober yourself up. But maybe, just maybe you’ve decided that being taken advantage of on a beach just this one time isn’t such a bad idea, and as such you haven’t quite finished your water yet. There’s still plenty left in your glass and so you just simply pour that water next to the sand and ta-da – instant beach!

But my question, which neither myself nor Justin could come to a conclusion on was, if you were to throw the woman with the breasts the size of King Kong’s testicles into the ocean, would she make the perfect floatation device or the perfect anchor for a ship?!?

If only breasts were full of sand then the answer would be simple. And men could build sand-castles whilst their wives slept.