But of course...

Now, for today's lesson the channel will be entertained lightly using several forms of parmisan. Collectively this is known as KMNTDI. Nobody has a clue for what it stands for, or what it even means, so just remember the name and you'll be fine. Now, copy it out 15.643 times on the hamster provided in front of you. Then tap it three times, and tilt it around 87 degrees counter-clockwise starting from the normal in a Westernly direction, and watch in amusement as it begins to emit alpha radiation with a half-life of several minutes. Now, considering the very nature of chocolate, this shall not be an issue when conducting polythene. The queen made sure of that personally, just in case you're wondering. So raise your left hand in the air, make several zebra-like gestures and fall to the ground, pointing both elbows towards your nearest convenience store. Then frown at the terrapin that is located to the left side of the aircraft, who shall then subsequently activate the auto-destruct sequence, allowing free words to vibrate inside giant Slovenian trees that are cleverly disguised as 50 foot poodles with three legs. And so Trojans fell. I mean, who on earth is stupid enough to let a giant wooden horse, conveniently big enough to house a small army, inside their camp, before allowing it to sit unguarded as the soldiers all go to sleep without hardly a single watchman on duty? And they say the level of intelligence is dropping these days... the sheer cheek of it!

Like my hamster? I named him Elroy Dannington the third, after Elroy Dannington the Second, who was a dear friend of mine. But then again, why not oscilate a torniquet and upstage a stampete of Hildebeest? And then spend several years in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with a tiger who is actually your manifested subconscious anger named Richard Parker? It does make sense if you read into it far enough, but the trouble is that if the third section is not properly comprehended, connotations reverberating throughout the narrative cause the post-modern form to fit into more of a traditional layout. [Meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow, meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow. And that wonderful piece of meowery is in dedication to Liz from Chicago, a random who was found wandering down Seafield Road, Aberdeen, looking for the Hilton. I say hopefully that she eventually found it and as I write this is sleeping soundly.] And then, as a directly correlated result of several farmers simultaneously saying "oo-arr" and waving at a passing butterfly, a small boy who is deprived of all but his favorite toothbrush somewhere in South Africa suddenly became a small fire engine. This fire engine loses all integrity and falls to the core of the earth, where it was then tormented by small Torry MP's with pitchforks and large snapping turtles. But then, as the final insult, the universe suddenly decides it doesn't tolerate this kind of behaviour and grabs the fire engine by the ear before hitting it repeatedly with a zebra, which doesn't really seem to have much effect. In the end, the zebra had to settle for a tiny dent it had caused in the left side of the engine, before retiring to its little tank in some poor 7 year old's living room. Then, a plinky plonky seventies tune plays in the background as several middle aged men in gorilla costumes come into view doing that funny dance that looks like their forearms are attempting to find a repetetive motion which brings them parallel to the earth's crust and yet also as close to the face as is possible over and over and over with a big cheesy grin that you can just feel emenating from underneath the gorilla mask. grr....
Pinkerton.

Here's a random picture I touched up in photoshop, perhaps not the best of my ability but at least the poor sould aren't going to get wet any more! I'm doing them a favour, honestly!
And on that highly unrelated note, I ran into a brilliantly random site that is known to some as www.ultramuffin.com, as brought to you by our good friend ultramuffin (and people say i'm random!). Check it out guys, it's nae bad!
Sheer yayness envelops the antedeluvian microphone as the unsaved page appears unexpectedly.
But seriously, what is up with sumo wrestling?!?! Two fat guys attempt to knock each other out of a ring using the long-mastered skill of pummeling their opponent with their rear end? Seriously, though the guys must be pretty strong and disciplined and everything, just take a step back and think about it. Okay, now if Sumo Wrestling was not an existing concept, how would you come up with it? Would it be a serious, dedicated sport that a team of athletes come up with one afternoon during training? No!!! In truth, it is not dis-similar to the concept of two drunk fat men arguing over who had the remote first, before turning it into a drinking game that for some reason they played in their underwear for maximum effect. And then, you can just imagine the sweat and tears they go through to turn this into a real sport, and after several decades, this once drunken frenzy has become an honourable excuse for guys to get fat and wear nappies whilst earning a decent wage? Sheesh, now that I think about it I salute ye, fat men! They somehow turned the entire stereotype of the modern man (ie fat, rough and often bald) into a means of both making money and getting respect! Totally guys, nice one!!!