Bawbaggery

I’ve just spent an hour reading the last couple of months of blogtivity. Reassuring to know that I’m not the only unreliable lina pica in the squad. It seems that the form for us picy is to chip in every couple of months with an apology and a promise that there’s more to come. So, erm... Kivak, ya baldy bawbag, I’m, eh, like.... sorry for not writing to your blog.

I have a list of excuses as long as John Holmes.

i) I am the original, and still the best, lina pica. I have never, ever been reliable at all when it comes to staying in touch.
ii) I am a hopeless writer. A while back a realised I couldn’t articlate my thoughts very well. Uncomfortable with this, I decided to stop thinking. And reading. At the weekend I read my first book since Christmas. Nothing so highbrow as the political tomes debated here, but Lance Armstrongs book about coming back from cancer and winning the Tour de France. Full of drugs, no doubt.
iii) I’ve been busy as hell.

OK, so it’s not the full 22 inch list, but it’s enough for me.

Busy as hell is mainly down to being a daddy of twins. Folk say that their children give them energy. Ours do too. In tiny, tiny bursts, when they smile, or laugh, or roll over or wave, or fart in a funny way. But it is nothing, nothing, compared to the energy that they sap from us through sleep deprivation and the need for constant care and attention. We seem to be turning a corner after 6 months and romantic evenings for Mummy and Daddy could be back on the agenda. Time to dig out my string vest and get the Pilsners in.

Busy as hell was also down to work. Our aggressive takeover of the company was exciting because it only just stopped short of actually being aggressive, which was a shame. I’d have been there in the thick of it, probably punching the wrong guy though (remember that fight in Salamandr 10 years ago? I seem to remember it was BAs first night in town and he was welcomed to CZ with the first and only bar brawl I’ve been involved in)

On the subject of BA, as a subsriber to megakozy I’m intrigued by his job as porno tsar (or tzar or however you spell it, but certainly not ‚star‘ which seems a more likely role for those bushy eyebrows). BAman, do you have any training videos of you telling folk how to deal with their addiction. I giggle just thinking about it, which is, after all, probably one of many reasons why I do not have such a socially responsible role in life. „Ah yes sir, let me see, you say that you ’re addicted to shaggin? Well, who fuckin isn’t?“ Ho ho.

Kivak, get yersel back over here. I'm sure there are plenty young children down in lower Zizkov who would be happy to offer themselves up for adoption. Never mind all those NZ bureaucrats, just pop into a Zastavarna on Konevova and you could probably have a sprog to order by the end of the week. He'd even come with his own mobile phone.

Stay black.

Bedrich