One day I’m going to be rich and I’ll buy a house on a hill and paint it bright purple so it stands out, or maybe I’ll paint it green so it blends in with the trees, or maybe I’ll actually live in a tree, but a specially modified tree with windows and doors and stuff, and I’ll own my own field to sit in, and I’ll own my own footpath to walk on, and I’ll own my own road to drive along, and I’ll own a giraffe to ride to the shops to buy things which I can’t afford at the moment, and I’ll wear silly clothes without fear of being arrested for “looking too much like a mental person” because I’ll be rich so I’ll be able to bribe the police into letting me fart on squirrels and catapult foxes into custard, and I’ll have days where I’ll randomly wear all bright orange clothes, and I’ll have days where I’ll wear shoes that look like gloves and gloves that look like shoes, and I’ll have have days where I’ll dress in old-fashioned golf clothes and wear them to go dancing in places where there is no music playing, and I’ll invent my own type of things which I don’t know yet because they haven’t been invented yet, and I’ll create music that the government will force people to listen to, and I’ll paint pictures on peoples arms and faces on their legs and places I’ll go with the flow and dream of orange snow and teardrops that taste of strawberry flowing through the sky.
“Beware, oh foolish sheep who dare cross the path of the armoured bull warrior! You shall die, or perhaps just get chased for a bit and then forced to wear strange clothes for a few days. Either way, it’s probably a good idea to move out of the way.”
And I’ll build a castle out of apples. And then eat it.
And I will dig tunnels under ground, and stuff. And squeeze badgers.
And I will accidentally drive a car into a stream, and need to be pulled out by a kind farmer, either using a big sturdy tractor (painted red, shiny, big wheels, lots of tread still on them, like it’s not long been bought from Simon’s Amazing World of Tractors, and is probably still under warranty) or by using a team of strong bulls, who I will then buy and also tame and then place each one in a different field as guards to the Kingdom. And they will be both tame and also fiercely wild and enraged. If this doesn’t make sense, let me expain. It does make sense if I explain it, so allow me to and I will. Okay, right, so here goes: What I will do is, I will stand there in the the corner of the field, pointing authoritatively and declaring:
“You fierce calm angry tame bulls, I have trained you to be nice to me, and also to this list of kind people who I like. Here, read the list and memorise the names, and if anyone comes here wanting to have a festival or set up a wine stall or whatever, then you ask them, ‘What is your name?’, and if their name is on the Nice People List, then you stand asside and let them come into the field to dance about and eat blueberries and all that kind of thing. But if their name is not on the list, then you become an angry wild raging bull again, and you run at them and blow steam out of your nostrils and all that kind of thing!”
Or I could even buy my own tractor. Not even do any farm work or anything. Just drive it around the lanes whilst dressed in farmers clothes (muddy boots, brown trousers, green body-warmer, and a tartan cap, and with red blusher makeup applied to my cheeks to make it look like I’ve spent a ruddy good day’s work lifting bails of hay and transporting cows around from field to field in a trailor), winking and saluting at passers by. I may even have a super fast motor put in it, and then drive it on motorways whilst playing Hardcore Belgian Trance at high volume. And if I’m ever asked why I’m driving my tractor so fast, I can say to them:
“I have an emergency at my other farm which is the other end of the country. One of my cows is giving birth to [insert hilariously out-of-place thing here*]“
- a fridge
- a sheep
- a new dimension
- its mother
- its father
- its uncle Fred
- a parallel universe
- the sky
- a tractor
- a car park
- a human baby
- a human adult
- a TV
- the internet
- the Moon
- the Sun
- the Rain
- the Wind
- the Dreams of Cedric Albert McDumphreydoodles
- the Meaning of Life
Hey, there’s a thought. Morality Trousers. Trousers that, by wearing them, make you more moral.
Anyway, on with more important things…
So yeah, one day I will be rich, and I’ll spend whole days eating nothing but grapefruits/satsumas/daffodils, and I’ll have my eyes taken out, washed, and then put back in again, so that I can see really far, like the Moon and stuff.
But until that happens, I’ll keep myself entertained writing shit like this.
And now, a video of the most insane sport ever invented in the history of Planet Earth: