Randomness : A measure of the lack of purpose, logic, or objectivity of an event.

This blog is random and you may notice that the word random is used an awful lot in it. But my friends have to live with that all the time so i'm sure you'll cope. =D I cannot think of anything more to say so I will say Enjoy :D

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About Me

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Me. Well. There is not really much to tell. I like cheese, if that is of any interest to you. I have a hyperactive imagination and am rther a nurrdd. I like arty stuff. Apparently I am gifted and talented. I have a habit of embarassing myself. I consider myself a tree hugger. I occasionally do stupid things for no apparent reason. And my life is tragic. (excuse me, why am i not famous yet??) Also, I am obbsessed with S Club and Friends. I'm a bit of a spaz. And have frequent laughing fits. I occasionally freak my mates out. Its just cos im cool. And you know it :D Another thing -- i just discovered a secret liking for foreign tv and radio which i cant understand. Its cool.

Thursday, 11 June 2009

The Pot Noodle Conspiracy 2

The Pot Noodle Was Poisoned!!!
Of course, Fanny was the main suspect, especially as she was secretly harbouring a huge pot noodle obsession. One day the police arrived at the orphanage where she lived, and arrested her, amid much screaming and kicking because of course no-one wants to be arrested. But then they threatened to call the men in white coats, and she came quietly. When at the police station they had to take a DNA test. How fascinating. So they locked Fanny up in the cold, dark and dull prison cell.

Meanwhile in a Whitehouse far, far away…
President Jock was sitting at a desk. It was a very lovely desk. It was hand carved in Italy many centuries ago. He was reading the daily newspaper, with the headline ‘Murder In A Pot’. The President was sad. Exactly 12 years ago to the day his daughter had been kidnapped. By who, he knew not. He had lost his wife 5 months ago. It was a tragic accident, involving a stuffed purple unicorn from Tesco, a barbars shop and a biography of Elizabeth the first. But that is another story, for another time, so I shan’t go into detail. Now, President Jock had had a tragic family history, so his daughter, whom he had named Rachel, was the only family he had left. If she was still alive. Which he very much doubted.
He sighed quietly to himself. And then jumped up half out of his skin, as he heard a noise. But it seemed to come from nothing, so the president continues his Reverie.

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