…first and second of all, I’ve never been on one or even get involved with the cops…because of someone else……without my lawyer present….or that no animals were involved….getting lost????? Me too!!! Guess what I’ll do for you, ill start at the beginning.

As you know, i use to be a slut. The keywords i want you to look at is “use to be”, but after this story i don’t think you will be thinking of me in the same way as you use to (strangely or with gay intentions).

I started this new job, advertising, you know when you get a call on your mobile (withheld number) and there this really happy person on the phone who wants to rape you for all the money your worth. Well that was my job, and I’m pretty sure i hated it. But, there was a great advantage to working there, women. Now, I’m not even that low to go out with women (colleagues) from work and try to nail them……………………….(oh come on)………………………….(i thought you knew me)………….but i did try anyway, against character, i swear.

I first started with this very nice girl, (label her “Short Snorts”), we went out every lunch time and had coffee. Innocent, nice. Then we had a couple of nights out, had drinks, no sex. It went really well until, she left the company.

Bummer.

So, i sucked it up and started on this new girl ( I’m going to name her “Bouncing Barbie”). “Bouncing Barbie” was engaged, but she was only with him for 2 months. And to be fair, she started it with me. Now ladies reading this or do read Al’s entries daily, you think this is pretty low and typical of a male to do this, but i said no, not until she had made her decision between her fiancé and me…..she dumped him 2 weeks later and was now with me. Great, Dave has a girlfriend………………..yeahhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Relationships, especially fresh ones, always have the ghost of past ventures knocking at the door, no matter how many times you try to shake them. I know this situation I’m about to describe to you is all my fault but, i mean come on….i might as well been sleeping with Saddam when they lifted that rock up and found him in that hole… that is how bad it was.

In a nutshell, I organised a leaving party for myself from the advertising company i was currently working at (told you i hated that fucking job). I invited everyone from work to come, including some past employees to…you know…say good-bye. Well, i might of invite “Shorts Snorts” and just let a past girlfriend (who happened to live close to my leaving do location). Now i didn’t except them to show up, or i didn’t have a real grip on whatever or not me and “Bouncing Barbie” would actually happen.

So, i get to the pub, couple of friends, drinking shots, chilling out, talking about how one of my past colleague was getting her non-surgal ass transformation next week. Well, the first to show up was my now girlfriend “Bouncing Barbie”, and she was wasted…she’s not much of a drinker. Barbie and me had both decided not to be all coupley that night, just have a relaxing night with drink and mates. Around half way through it, when i was feeling wavey, i looked up and “Short Snorts” is standing right there in the doorway….and she was looking for me.

I’m like “Ok man stay cool, shes not here for you, shes here for everyone else and to say hello… that’s it…we’re friends that’s all….god help me”. So sliding away from “Bouncing Barbie” i went up to “Snorts” and gave her a hug and asked how she was. She said she was good and she was here for me……this is where i tried to pulled out my gun and top myself really.

To tell you the truth, I never stopped liking “Short Snorts”, but she left and we hadnt had much contact since, and i did and do like “Bouncing Barbie”…still… and don’t you dare tell me that women haven’t done this because guys and girls are more the same then anyway likes to admit…just name one thing a girl has been through in a relationship or finding one that a guy hasn’t been threw???

Anyhoo, i was stuck there, again i admit it, it was my fault, i was suck between wasted present girlfriend and now getting drunk girl who just came to take me home with her. I have changed and did something that still feels very weird with me, i explained to “Short Snorts” that i couldn’t see her because i was with “Bouncing Barbie”, she wasn’t happy but my other colleagues had already told her to stick around and keep trying. Great…. and “Bouncing Barbie” was getting very upset that “Short Snorts” was taking up all my time, to a point of crying, alot.

You know when god throws you alot of curve balls to teach you something… well i must of dry humped god’s wife or something, because the next person to walk through the door was my ex-girlfriend, we didn’t break up all that well and she thinks shes black, but shes not, shes white. You know, listens to alot of rap and blues, looks at the mirror and wants a bigger ass kind of thing.

So I’m stuck there now, with my present and presently wasted girlfriend (”Bouncing Barbie”), wasted old flame (”Short Snorts”), and my “racial confused ex-girlfriend”…..you know what kids, what happens next is going to be an entry and a story for next time… so if you want to know what happens to your ex pervert writer then please, give me a post on to what you think happens. Good night ya all!!!!

Shortly after getting into work today, my supervisor received an email from some biking association saying that she’d been on a bike ride with them 4 years previously and were wanting permission to use her picture in their new brochure.

Her picture took up the entire front cover.

And she looks fat.

Which kinda helped her to fill up the front cover.

She’s not actually fat these days, but the angle, plus whatever she was wearing at the time is what accounts for the slight increase in fat that seems apparent. I don’t know if she was fat then or not, but meh. It’s got to be embarassing.

There’s been a few things happening in the news lately (isn’t there always?) I’m not talking the usual news you read about on the front cover or hear about on the TV, I’m talking about the news that you only get to read about a few pages into the tabloids.

For instance, how about this curiosity from last weeks Friday edition of ‘The Sun’?

I HAVE SEX WITH CARS
Weirdo’s seduced 2 boats and a jetski too

There’s a mechanic called Chris Donald who loves his work - mainly because he has sex with cars. I am not making this up. He prefers the curvatious bodywork of a car over that of women. He’s had sex with more than 30 different models in 20 years, plus the two motorboats and his friend’s jetski mentioned in the headline. How he managed to “seduce” though them is beyond me…

He even has his own website where apparently there’ve been hundreds of other people with the same kinda interest - and 20 of those visitors have even given their cars to him for a “service”, often pleasuring themselves whilst he works on their car.

His garage is even kitted out for it - it’s heated with a carpeted floor. I daren’t imagine the friction burns he must get when working on the exhaust…

However, this guy does say “It’s all about imagination and creativity. There’s more to car love than exhaust pipes. Stroking the body panels and delicate touching makes excellent foreplay.”

What’s worse is that he brags about having exhausts custom made for one car because they were too small. “I had them widened and rounded. The firm never asked why - but I loved the view while she was up on the ramp and they were working on her”.

The emphasis is really on the “her” aspect. True, I name a lot of things I’ve had - such as my computers and my cars. But I don’t have sex with them.

There’s a great bit on the page opposite which shows a photographic selection of some of his “lovers”. Most of them have names such as ‘Laura’ or ‘Charlotte’ or ‘Lydia’ - he’s even had a threesome with a pair of Toyota MR2s called Jennie & Sadie. I love how he even had “tender moments” with a Pontiac called Amy.

But the best bit is what it says at the bottom;

Chris gives names to his favourite lovers. Others were just cars in the night.”

Of those one-night-stands, he loved the bodywork of a BMW 635i, broke the heart of a Mitsubishi and had exhausting sessions with an Audi TT.

Chris says “I love all aspects of cars. Some people even like to taste mechanical fluids, but that’s going too far.”

Personally, if I found him sexualy assaulting my car I’d have considered that going too far.

He’s currenlty in a long-term relationship and has explained his fetish to partners in the past (both male and female) and so far only one woman has been jealous.

Chris believes one spark for his fetish was 1980s cult TV series Knight Rider, starring David Hasselhof and featuring a talking car.
He said: “When I was a young boy I used to see human qualities in cars. As I grew up I noticed I was having feelings towards cars and they began catching my eye in a certain way.”

I really hope he didn’t violate Herby.

In all fairness it is a recognised psychological condition that he’s suffering from - and a specialist in human sexual behaviour says that it’s not surprising considering how cars are sexualised in modern advertising.

Maybe it’s a good thing that Apple stopped doing adverts about how sexy their computers looked and instead went for the PC & Mac ads. The last thing we want is people joining the mile-high club with their MacBook Pro or turning up to hospital complaining about frying their genitals whilst passionately yet vigerously sexually assaulting the firewire port on their iMac.

Chris apparently writes stories about “auto-eroticism” on his website and has penned a manual called ‘How to Make Love to a Car’.

This of course, comes from the same paper that in 1993 revealed that electritian Karl Watkins was jailed for having sex with pavements in Redditch. This latest issue though about the car mechanic also contained “More filthy pictures of horny little beasts” in a pull-out magazine about cars entitled ‘Motors’. So he basically manages to make it into a national newspaper and gets a free porn magazine out of it. Go figure.

There’s been another car-related story in this same paper about some stupid cops stopping a hearse carrying a grieving couple and the coffin of their premature baby for travelling too SLOWLY. The cop then went on to grill the driver for a few minutes even after the grieving parents and tiny casket had been pointed out to him. Fortunately he’s now under investigation by his police force in Kent. Stupid idiot.

A friend of mine recently pointed out that the British military’s Skynet 5A satellite has been launched into space from Kourou in French Guiana. More so, he pointed out how suicidle it was to name a defence satellite network “Skynet” - doesn’t the Government ever learn?

I think I just answered my own question there…

I wonder if lemmings would ever learn? Obviously there’s the whole, if one lemming jumps off a cliff then all the other lemmings will follow and plummet to their death also, thing. So, obviously not. Then again, it could have its uses, for instance - I personally don’t think that the US should have sent people into war in Iraq - they should have sent lemmings instead.

Think about it - train one lemming to do the dirty work and the others will follow. I’m not condoning the war in Iraq by any means but I think it would have been a far more sensible idea.

Generally speaking though, as long as lemmings don’t start reading Chris Donald’s book, then everyone should be fine. I certanly don’t want to wake up in the morning to find a swarm of lemmings humping my car.

Mind you, I must admit that I’m going to be a little bit cautious next time I take my car in for an M.O.T.

Last night I went with a very tired Dave to see ‘Little Shop of Horrors’ being performed at the school I work at. It was actually very funny with some excellent performances. Dave was seriously freaking out though because he hasn’t slept much recently.

The school I work at is the same school that Dave used to attend as a student. During the interval he bumped into a few teachers that he remembered. Now for those of you who don’t know, Dave is a twin - and unfortunately for him, they all remembered him as his twin brother, Chris.

Dave was not happy, although fortunately his tiredness prevented him from having the energy to be angry or pissed off.

I’m pretty tired myself today. It seems as though the more time goes on, the less chance I get to catch up on my sleep. I’ve also been waking up in the most peculiar way recently. The last few mornings I’ve woken up as a weatherman!

Let me explain. My bed is essentially two matresses, one on top of the other, which lie directly on the floor. So in essence, I don’t actually have a bed but rather two matresses. This being the case, I’m actually very low to the floor.

As I’ve mentioned in previous posts, my alarm clock is an old phone and it lies next to my matresses. When I’m lying in my bed I hit the snooze button by raising my arm out and pressing the button. So far, nothing seems wrong there.

Except, when I’m asleep I don’t realise I’m lying down. I am, in fact, standing up. When the alarm goes off, I realise there’s a storm coming and I indicate to all the viewers at home where the location of the storm is by moving my arm into the general direction against the bluescreen behind me. So, as I said, I wake up each morning as a weatherman. As for what I’ve been dreaming about the last few nights I’m not too sure, which is probably a safer option for me and a relief for you to not have to experience yet another one of my dreams.

However my tired state does seem to have me on edge today. Not to sound paranoid or anything, but I have this dodgy suspicion that a plane is going to crash land on the school and from the wreckage a giant goldfish will emmerge and demand our everlasting loyalty. And considering that yesterday, as I was driving to work, I had an odd feeling and thought to myself “it would be weird if a cop drove past right now” - only to drive around the corner and have a police car drive past - I think that my 6th sense may be correct. I don’t want to be enslaved by a race of goldfish - especially ones that don’t know how to fly a plane properly!

Then again, it might just be my tummy telling me I want food.

OMG - I went into Tesco the other day and saw what must be 300 easter eggs! Added to this shock was the torture I underwent knowing that I’ve given up chocolate for lent, thus restricting my ability to saviour one of the 300 easter eggs there. After telling my friend about it on the phone, I turned to my right to see what I can only describe as ANOTHER 300 easter eggs. Seriously, they must have easily over half a thousand in-store, if not more!

I’d love it if those easter eggs were all full of chickens. And then, at the appointed hour, an army of killer chickens could break free from their cardboard cages and slaughter all those that fired me all those years ago (yes I still hold a grudge for a job I didn’t even like). I think I’m just bitter because I re-read the very first few posts of this site over at http://archive.thechoad.com and it brought back how annoyed I was that they ruinied Christmas.

In fact, I’ve been thinking a lot about how this site started. Like for instance how it was originally just me trying to keep a diary of how stupidly clumsy I can be at times so that I could look back and see for myself. I’ve never been good at writing diaries but the concept of blogging just made it so much simpler - especially as I can type far faster than I can write by hand. After people started reading it and saying they found it funny, that’s when I decided to redo the site from scratch and have it as you see it now.

Then I had plans to do comics which hasn’t really happened. It will do eventually but it will be a while before I get the chance - plus I could really do with getting a graphics tablet to simplify the process (scanning in hand-drawn sketches only to redraw over them just becomes a pain in the ass).

As time went on the idea of podcasting came into my head for some reason and after a very rocky first episode, ‘The Choad Show’ was born! I would now like to make an official announcement - not one that’s kind of “this is what we’d like” but rather “this is our goal and what we are going to do”;

The Choad Show is evolving.

As I’ve stated before, we’re working on scripts for some sketches to feature in some episodes (something we planned in the first season but didn’t really get a chance to do) and we’ve got a couple more bands interested in having their music featured.

Whilst all that is old news, one thing I’m announcing is that I’ve decided to put some money into The Choad Show. The site itself is all non-profit and comes out of my own pocket - but so far the spending is just on the domain name and hosting. Soon I will be putting money towards increasing the sound quality of the show to make it sound more professional, as well as (later down the line) opening an online store with various choadtastic items such as clothing, mugs, etc (we already have a load of ideas for them).

Obviously to do so isn’t going to be cheap. I want to avoid using banner advertising (as I’ve never liked it and unlike most websites these days, I would like TheChoad.com to remain banner-free for as long as is feasibly possible), so what I might be considering soon is a paypal donation scheme. I’m not going to do so until Season 2 has started (as I don’t think that would be fair) but if I do and you feel like you’d like to donate then all proceeds will go towards the running of the site and The Choad Show. I’ll also see if I can come up with some special reward of some sort for those who donate to make it worth your while.

Before the show started, Dave and I were just that, Dave and I. Since the show started, it’s become a part of our lives - a thing we enjoy doing and feel compelled to do. It’s almost as though The Choad Show has taken control and we’re excited about Season 2 and almost as gutted as some of you that it hasn’t started yet - but we’re hoping that you’ll find that the wait has been worth it.

But because the show is now a part of who we are, it’s something that we’re embracing on a conscious level and I personally want to treat it as less of a hobby and more like a part-time job by putting a lot more of my time and energy into it.

This is probably the last I’ll mention of this change for a while, but I just want to re-assure you that whilst it doesn’t seem like much is going on, there’s actually so much going on which is the reason Season 2 hasn’t aired yet. The site is going to get a complete overhaul for the second time and whilst I haven’t decided if I’ll keep or ditch the current look and style, it will definitely be improved under the hood and there’ll be a lot more information about The Choad Show including a proper episode guide, information on guests and featured music, as well as making it even easier to listen to the show by making it playin your browser whilst keeping the current download options available.

So basically lots of work to do using what little free time I have at the moment.

And no chocolate.

Bloody lent…

Okay, so again, I’m not wanting you guys to get the impression that TheChoad.com has been reduced to a record of dreams, but I’ve got to say what happened this morning.

First of all, my alarm went off. At that moment, in my semi conscious/unconscious state, the first thing to pop into my head was “Isn’t it amazing that there’s a baby that’s been born and I’ve been asleep longer than it’s been alive?” to which someone replied with “Yeah, wow. And it won’t shut up.”

Now please don’t get the wrong idea. I’m not a violent person. I love children - especially babies. They’re cute and fun and hilarious and I used to be one and I would never ever ever punch one - but in my dream I inexplicably did so repeatedly and it wouldn’t shut up! Then I lifted up its head and pressed the button underneath (also known as opening my flip-phone and pressing the button to shut up the alarm).

Silence.

I fell back into a deep sleep. But thankfully, I’m able to [rarely but sometimes] outsmart my subconscious. Because I’m aware that I do stupid stuff like turn off my alarm without being consciously aware of it, I set more than one alarm on my phone. So whilst I had gone back to sleep, my phone was yet to wake me up again.

Suddenly I became Mexican.

Me and my friend (who’s name I can’t spell, but is pronounced ‘”Vel-ahh Man-when-ehz”) had a problem with the alarm. “We can’t get awee from it Señor.” So we went next door to Dave’s house and spoke to his Dad.

We then spent the next 15 minutes trying to come to a deal with him. We spent ages pleading with him to help us, but he refused to because of the legal and moral implications. We offered him money. He turned it down, as 0.001% wasn’t enough for him. After a while of bartering, we reluctantly raised our offer so that he could have a whole 2% of everything we earned, and he agreed to help us cross the border.

What’s weird is that the moment he said “yes” my alarm went off and ‘Vel-ahh Man-when-ehz’ shouted “Jurst in ze nick of tyme Señor!” Dave’s Dad then quickly helped us across the border from Sleep-land into Wake-land and I awoke in my bed, turned off my alarm and got out and proceeded to download the latest episode of Scrubs, had a shower, watched scrubs and then went to work where I am now writing this post (naughty naughty).

So that pretty much covers this morning.

I was also reading a newspaper last night that I bought the other day (I tend to buy a paper and not read it till a couple of days after. If anyone can fill me in as to why then that would be greatly appreciated as I don’t have a frelling clue). I started reading the agony-aunt page and the main story of them at first seemed like the usual, run-of-the-mill “I caught my girlfriend cheating on me” story. But no, this one was slightly different. The headline read;

I found bride-to-be in bed with my mum

Well, what can you say to that? Apparently he came home early, found lights on that he wasn’t expecting, had a sense that something wasn’t quite right and went upstairs to find both his fiancée and his mother completely naked in bed with their arms wrapped around each other. Sunday dinner’s going to be weird…

Talking about awkward moments after sex, my friend Pete posted a bulletin on MySpace entitled “3 Words Post-Sex” and I responded to it with my own submission. Take a look;

Have a sense of humor and make up any 3 words you can say after sex.

(try not to use what someone else says…)

Put your name and the words below and then repost this.
Lets see what we end up with…

Stephen - Wana go again?
Kerry - That was shit!!!
Emily - I’ve had better
Phil - Now get out…
numpty - im really shaking
prison boy - put kettle on!!!!
Laura B - was that it???
Woody - Who are you???????
sade - quick ur girlfriend/boyfriend
Nay Nay - Thanks, cum agen!
lil Bex! - I wanna do it again!
Oli - Is that poo?
Charl - get off now!
Gaskell - Oops, it broke
Pollard - Thats 8 inches?!?!?!
Pete - you finished yet?
Alastair - I have aids…

Okay, two obvious things to point out, firstly I don’t actually have aids, and secondly ‘lil bex’ can’t count. Please feel free to add your own suggestions to the list on the comments of this post if you can think of anymore, although I do think that 3 words is pretty restrictive in what you can put. I was almost tempted to go with “Like a glove” but wasn’t sure if everyone would get the Ace Ventura 2 reference.

Would it be unfair to fake a heart-attack after sex to see if you could freak out your partner? I suppose if they call an ambulance then that’s a good sign that they care about you - because alternatively if they shout “WOOHOO!” or “1 down, 3 to go” then it’s probably best never to reveal to them that you’re still alive. In fact, just to be on the safe side, if you’re going to have sex with someone who you don’t know very well, it’s probably best to check that your passport is still valid, that you still have enough money for a one-way plane ticket and that you’ve settled your affairs (unless it’s the affair that’s causing you to have to run to another country - in which case you probably deserve whatever you’ve got coming).

How pissed off would you be though if no-one told you that the sea existed? Imagine if you lived in England and you wanted to literally run away to Mexico with your imaginary friend ‘Vel-ahh Man-when-ehz’ because you’d had sex with a psychopathic serial killer (which probably happens far more than you’d expect). You could end up running all the way from one side of the country over to the other and then you’d be like “WHERE THE F*** DID THIS COME FROM?!? And then you’d get a little wet followed by a large chance of drowning.

But if you lived in Shanghai, well they have some of the cheapest cabs in the world - they’re something like 1 pence per mile. It’s probably cheaper to get a cab from there to Mexico than it would be to get a cab from Manchester to Liverpool, which probably makes Shanghai one of the safest places to have sex in terms of an escape-plan unless you know for certain that your partner isn’t going to kill you. In fact, even if you know that for sure, it’s probably best to emigrate there once you’ve gotten married anyway, just in case….

As you’ve probably been able to discern, if something’s happening when I’m starting to become semi-consciously aware of what’s going on around me then it’s likely to enter my dreams. So, based on that line of thinking, if I end up living with a woman at some point in the future then I wouldn’t even like to hazard a guess as to;

1. What they do in the morning
2. How my mind is going to interpret it and incorporate it into my dreams
3. If she’s likely to have an affair with either my mother or my friend ‘Vel-ahh Man-when-ehz’

So if I ever get into a long-term relationship, I’ve decided to prepare myself for every possible eventuality. This doesn’t appear in the guidebooks, but it really is worth doing - depending on the situation and my physical state, either pumping myself full of morphine so that I’ll never be conscious enough or doing the exact opposite - infusing caffeine directly into my bloodstream. I’m not entirely sure how I’d infuse caffeine into my bloodstream other than by stabbing my arm with a screwdriver, inserting a drinking straw and allowing my arm to drink directly out of a Pepsi bottle.

I wonder if ‘Vel-ahh Man-when-ehz’ likes Pepsi?

At the risk of turning this blog into a record of my dreams, I’ve been having nothing but weird dreams lately - Many of them involving such weird things as actor Rob LaBelle as a con artist on a beach who manages to make people believe that when someone’s stood on a small stage he’s built, he’s able to turn them into a fountain (without revealing that he’s just putting a kink in the hose when no-body’s there). Then I found myself quoting myself from our Road Trip episode of The Choad Show as a way of arguing with Rob LaBelle to convince his “followers” after he started his own human-fountain religion that it was all a con; “IT’S NOT A FUCKING FOUNTAIN!!!”

I somehow managed to start a religious war by saying that. Weird.

I’ve also had to fight for my life on a toilet….

I entered the gents bathroom, went over to the cubicle, opened the door, and proceeded to sit on the toilet. Everything seemed fine and normal and as far as I was aware, I’d taken the correct “Approaching a toilet” procedure. But what was different about this particular toilet was that it was about three times larger than a regular toilet. I began to slip. I fell backwards and my hands that were grabbing ever so tightly to the rim of the seat lost their grip and I fell head-first into the toilet.

But suddenly, at the last moment my feet managed to get a foot-hold on the toilet seat and the plummet to my death had been averted. Although, I was left hanging upside down inside a giant toilet. Just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, I suddenly realized that my nose was bleeding - and not just a little either.

Blood was dripping down into my hair and also down my throat to the point that I couldn’t breath. So not only was I trapped, upside down in a giant toilet, but I couldn’t breath either. With my final gasp of breath, I reached up and managed to grab a hold of the rim and pull myself back up.

This left me with a slight problem. I returned to a large group of people with blood, mixed with thick mucus, all down my front - and it had solidified like thick candle wax. Nice.

In another dream I found myself in my car. I tried to overtake someone on a road and I can’t remember clearly why I shouldn’t have done it, but I know that I shouldn’t because a couple of days later the police tracked me down and it turns out that there was a police car who witnessed it. For overtaking when I shouldn’t have, I was fined something like £3,000 and my drivers license was revoked. I took it to court but I got fined more and thrown in prison for not being able to pay the fine.

They’re even bigger bastards in my dreams than in real life!

Another night I dreamt about being cryogenically frozen. The weird thing is that when I woke up I still believed I was cryogenically frozen. Suffice to say, by the time I’d thawed I was late for work.

I’m quite often half-awake like that. When I wake up in the morning, my alarm manifests itself as all sorts of things. Sometimes it’s a bomb that needs to be defused, at other times it’s a warning alarm to tell me that my ship is under attack, and there’s even been once that I’ve been a robot and it was my robotic mother shouting at me.

What I find worrying is that these are just the ones I can remember - there have been many more that have freaked me out but as time goes on I’ve forgotten what happened in them.

This next one didn’t happen recently, but I’ve once had my alarm go off and I’ve woken up in a state of massive panic because I dreamt I’d ended up in hospital and I thought it was my heart monitor reporting that I was dead.

It’s not always bad things though. Sometimes my subconscious completely ignores it or converts it into something nice like a singing bunny of sorts. Thankfully not like the bunnies outside that they have in the south - they were evil! I’m surprised I haven’t had a dream about a war between the bunnies outside and the bears outside - but I think that it’s because it would probably be so scary that I’d end up in a coma.

I think it would be great to be in a coma. Think about it, you don’t have to do anything, you can spend all day relaxing in bed and people always come to visit and talk to you, and if you’re lucky you have some sort of trippy experience where various aspects of your personality manifest themselves as people you know. And as far as I’m aware, I think it makes you exempt from having to complete your tax returns…

In regards to The Choad Show, things are progressing probably faster than we expected. As you may or may not know, in addition to our short intro-sketches we’re wanting to have full sketches in some of our episodes. We’re wanting to have a minimum of five scripts completed with a couple recorded before Season 2 starts. To give you an idea of where we’re up to (and why posts still aren’t daily on here like they used to be), I’ve written one script, I’ve almost finished a second, Dave and I have both collaborated on one of his scripts which is now complete and he’s just starting his second one which brings us to a grand total of 4.

We’re also getting a number of bands to provide music for the show so that there’ll be a greater variety to listen to - but we’re still looking so if you’re in a band or know anyone in one and you’d like to have your/their music featured on the show then please get in touch.

And with that all said and done, I’m going to leave you with this short message;

Waffles may be made out of potatoes, but that’s no reason to decapitate your land-lady with a pitch-fork (unless of course your waffles have rabies).

:)