Today did not go as the Victorian school room of children in my head thought it would. I planned to go out very early in the morning but I was surprised to discover that it was raining so hard the water had condensed into glass containers holding extinct snakes pickled in vinegar. Consequently, I grabbed as many containers as possible, wore a lampshade as a hat and spent the day inside drawing lines inside lines.
I went to town before nine, simultaneously as myself and also in a disembodied state akin to a hypothetical Boltzmann Brain. It was a long day as the only people allowed through the temple gate had to profess their intense love of two-dimensionality. Despite this I had time in the evening to tie myself in knots and then pretend to be boy scout when I undid them again.
I had a completely free day (most of my days are quite expensive!) so I used the opportunity to repopulate the moat with the salt water crocodiles I found in my cereal packet. I also spent some valuable time learning ballet in the glass igloo where I continue to keep my boyhood collection of safety pins.
I went to the board game countryside before walking to non-tinsel town in the rain. I was the ring master when the lion lady came in to complain about the letter she had just addressed to herself. Later, the clown boy seemed to be very concerned about his still nascent relationship with the goddess called Semi-Circe.
I started the day with the strong belief I was a slug that had eaten his own lettuce during the night. I pulled in my tentacles, which, unbeknown to me, my wife had been using as clothes airers, and took an Ancient Egyptian boat to town. I called the boat Hilda and held a young swan in my arms.
I took an early morning trip to see the volcano that spews out fish. I threw in my money and took home my prize. However, I didn’t have time to enjoy it as I had to go to town to be an extra in the latest Godzilla film – this was the one were the monster discovers religion and the whole world is destroyed in the subsequent fireball.
I started the day as an honorary member of The Country Boys and we talked about our next adventures. I felt a bit left out as my only super gift was the ability to pull a horse and cart out of one ear and a headless rider from the other. In the evening I quietly saluted one of my true friends who had the head of a bull and claimed to have known Aubrey Beardsley.