No word from Venus again. It has been a while since I sent that letter but they say that Venusians make irregular yet fascinating pen-pals, so I’m not too worried. I still have not started on my Learn Venusianese DVD yet, but Clive writes very good English, even if his capitalisation is a little erratic.
His last letter was very interesting. Apparently the Mekon has taken to wearing a toupee and has grown a long green moustache that looks like he has grass cuttings stuck to his top lip.
We had been making plans for him to come visit, but since he has not replied yet I don’t know if he has been able to book himself a ticket. Did you know it takes less time to get from Venus to Stanstead than it does to get from Swansea to Manchester. Bloody awful when you think about it. They get plenty of leg room on the flight as well, and they can recline the seats enough to get a bit of kip on the way. Or anally probe any rednecks they pick up on the way. Better than an in-flight movie, if you’re a Venusian. You won’t find them watching Four Weddings and Funeral on the way, not when rednecks are so plentiful, floating around in space.
Clive tells me he always has a few Venusian gins and tonics before he gets on board, just to reduce the terror of interplanetary travel which all Venusians have. Of course, they’re a bit more hardy then we are, so despite the fact they are all terrified of travelling beyond the thick layer of clouds that cover the planet they do anyway. They’re either very brave or that gin is good stuff. Apparently they serve it with a slice of Squb hoof, which is a form of bureaucrat concerned with sanitation and the regulation of entertainers.
Clive says that Frictionless Man are huge on Venus. I like Venus.
17 comments:
I don't think you're really in communication with venetian. I suspect this blog of being a half truth at best.
Wild horse, desert cactus, frayed moccassin, they say: Frictionless Man probably not playing at Dylan Thomas Festival because Laughing Chief Tim 'Sunblush Tomato Face' Prosser not know his arse from his elbow!
Goat chin, desk lamp, yellow fingernail, they say: take with pinch of buffalo dung all that Laughing Chief Tim 'Supernova Head' Prosser say in future!
Sawtooth snaggle puss, wide eared bush turkey, throat wrangled nukka stump, frosted spite viper, they say: you um heap plenty not wrong about Big Chief "Bellowing Buffalo" Prosser.
Snowy shoe badger, gummy eye pony, boiled bum sweet, they say: Big Chief Loose Moose is um big heap meany for not believing in Clive. From Venus.
Oh i believe, i just don't think he writes you letters.
I thought of a good one: Tim 'cunt' Prosser; not very clever I know, but perfectly sums up my feelings about him.
I think you´re being very rude and unkind speaking about my boy like this. He can´t be blamed for his complexion. I had a nasty, frightening experience with the rear end of a babboon when I was bearing the little darling
Just to confirm that we are not in any way related to Prossers of 11, Galaxy Way, Sunlight Estate, Venus.
Clive has told me to tell you all to be nice.
Including you?
I'm always nice.
Who's Tim Prosser? (I take it from the posts here that his name is some form of rhyming slang and he's been involved in the wrongful - nay criminal - denial of a FM gig opportunity?)
Tim is a nice man who is really called Tim. Only good things will come of this, I am sure.
Just received this transmission via the wonders of Inter Planetary Google (Google Venus to us that is) and I am sorry to say Mrs Prosser thatt you are related to us albeit somewhat loosely. It was when one of those ships bound for Botany Bay (is that the correct spelling) was kidnapped by one of our Earth probes. We can trace our ancestors back to then. The only attribute that has been left in our beings is the loathing of bread. Can anyone help us with this one.
PS Any chance of another view of your veg basket or even your kitchen Mr. F.? Is there a Mrs. F.?
Does anyone else find the flavour of gin and popadoms sinister?
Venus is the 'sister' planet earth, and also the roman Goddess of love. Please let there be a Mrs Frictionless, even if it's only in my head, the idea of a lonely Mr Frictionless, it weakens the constitution!
MAMBO! A conversation with the gods, and a genre sinisterly (<-is this a word?) missing from Mr Frictionlesses act. Could conversations be written and posted to venus, the goddess, asking for a Mrs Frictionless.
Did I really ask permission to think? I swear I'm losing my prose.
You'll never lose your prose.
You're too much of a proser!
That's better than being too much of a Prosser.
I suppose.
Is that Tim Prosser the Merchant Banker, from Sri Lanka who set down the anchor on an oil tanker on it's way to Casablanca visiting Ricky and Bianca, and playing sitar like Ravi Shanka?
For the sake of clarity: shuffle-board at six, then cocktails.
Post a Comment