welcome to pantsville

well its quarter to two in the morning while most sensible people are sleeping i seem to be here . all is quiet in pants palace apart from the stop start tap of the keyboard the hum of the freezer and the flatulent creaking of my desk chair . yes if you have read mt tweets in the past you may have worked out that most things in this house dont work myself included, and the ones that do are flawed in some way. for example the flatulent washing machine that i so lovingly refer to, the fridge that freezes everything if you turn the dial above three the boy toy of a television that tends to switch itself off usually half way through something i want to watch..
even the upstairs toilet although since the attitude moved in with my mother there have been no what we term three day eventers to contend with.nothing in the house matches anything else it's either been begged borrowed or more likely stolen ( well not really just feels like it ) . i seem to hang on to objects longer than i hang on to the people who brought them into the house .
but those folks are all set for another day and another blog . right now i'm just setting the scene and hoping that it amuses . ive been told tonight that my tweets are funny. i dont really understand how or why but hey im not about to argue . i'm just me life kicked me in the balls so i cut them off and decided to wear them as ear rings . life wasnt happy at that apparently life is a midget and cant kick that far .
i suppose you have to have a sense of humour if you sleep in the same room as a small fluffy nine yr old who talks in his sleep. many nights i have been woken up by the shout of
"I want cheese!"
"It's my turn down the slide"
or my personal favorite
"Thats a big fart"
yes i know you got to love a mincing nine yr old who says little gems like that havent you ? looks around expectantly.
i have just realised that most of this has been loosely based on bodily functions . well if all else fails a fart joke usually wins most people around doesnt it . and if it does fail then fuck it i'll go back to being poetic either way the spelling is going to be questionable.
so this is me and this is pantsville a small palace in the arse end of no where coated with dust not particulary tidy but its mine and its home. its where i dream of other things and other places other lives while dragging a little humour out of my own.
so until next time ladies and gentlemen the pants have left the building