A door? A bull?

THE CJ CURRY EXPERIENCE #178

"Bickies."

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i'm being serious here guys.





















it is blank















blank blank



























blanket


















blankety blank


















blanker than paper

















now, do fuck off



























it is still blank





















nope. still blank
























stilllllllll blank






















fine. i'm going now. bye.

one day, the music box will open. it'll play jingle bells.

Exploring the junkyard to infinity?

THE CJ CURRY EXPERIENCE #177

"Well, I've had worse ghosts and wolves attacking me."

FOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD.

And by food I mean I say I eat a piece of cheese and macaroni and cheese and cookies alongside the last of the rainbow jelleh and noodles that contain chocolate eggs with Hollandaise sauce on the inside and Tabasco sauce on the top. TABASCO.

But in all honesty my midnight snack is a great big heaping bowl of pasta so WHY AM I STILL A FUCKING SKINNYSAURUS REX.

ka-klick

Aw fuck. That would be the feds with their nerf guns. Looks like I'm going downtown.

*walk walk walk*

'Ello, 'ello, wot's all this then?

Shut up CJ. You're a menace to society with that blog of yours.

Welp. You lot don't beat around the bush.

Shut up CJ. We are beginning to like your blogging behaviour a lot less.

You wouldn't be the first.

Shut up CJ. We realise that you can't stop the signal, so you're going to have to tone yourself down a fraction.

I don't like that.

Shut up CJ. Get out of here and seriously... consider this your first and final warning.

Fine. Goodbye.

Shut up CJ.

*walk walk walk*

So issues have come up from the feds. Toning stuff down a fraction... now.

Too bad they didn't say what fraction!

FLABFBHJCLCNLOFAEORGNHAKEBVILUHARIULEWBGALGKUBABYHASRUYEGAIJUPTQIUREWGHKAGDHGAMJDSHBVKQUWBRYVJHTGMAEWRFKIWTQOLITGRUAGHKROIUTGAIOURLGFALEIUTKHGILAWGHHDKABVXMNZIULAHJALPQOILA

THROW ME OFF A THREE-FOOT SKYBRIDGE

LAPSES IN CONCENTRATIONNNNNNNNNNN owl

nnnnnnnnnnah

I am brighter than gold, she's a rattlesnake.

HDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHDHD.

LANCH.

88935489345718340563459786213015620385761294578216721012573608768935567302157816289357235025602381576290385632019573628301876.

And now for today's second made-up word: chliret. Yay!

seriously, winter. fuck off.

I am not sponsored by Coca-Cola.

THE CJ CURRY EXPERIENCE #176

"I can say my time was well spent."

SO I AM PERFECT. Or at least, that's what folks say. If by "folks" I mean me. Which I do. Because I am perfect. Any complaints about this perfection should be sent straight to hell.

But, on with it.

Once again I can say with confidence "long live my cricket bat" and my magic number is still slowly increasing, so I am slowly living through life. There's the boring bits out of the way. The insanity shall begin again!

greeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeen.

I HAZ RAINBOW JELLEH THAT IS NOT NECESSARILY RED OR PUCE IN COLOUR BUT IS DELECTABLY TASTY. I am now taking catering orders for rainbow jelleh - send requests via hate mail, directed at Tony Abbott and mailed at his address. PLEASE.

e2-e3. Your move, Internet.

splat.

splat.

splat.

splat.

splat.

splat.

clouds.

Well, that was fast. And unexpected. Be prepared for my unexpectedness. And I'm also kinda shellshocked - get me over that hump and I'm set. DO THE FLOP.

Drop it in my box like it's hot SHUT UP THERE ARE NO INYOURENDOS HERE please move along.

deadlocked

Crap. Running out of time and space and continuums. Also running out of cheese for the Ideas Weasel. Must be that time of time again. Emotions ahoy!

i am not sponsored by pepsi either.

Speak in silent tongues.

THE CJ CURRY EXPERIENCE #175

"Flash, flash, double flash. Nice ring."

We now come with double the liquid. And double the liquid means triple the care. Burger get!

I have somebody hovering over my shoulder, apparently trying to get an insight into the creative process that goes on in my head. I gotta warn y'all, everything in my head is kinda gooey. I honestly don't think you'd want that. Hell, I don't like goo. And I don't like being hit on the head. And this episode is coming to you:

• fifty-three hours after I started socialising
• forty-five hours after I went home
• forty hours after I woke up (not in a gutter so get your minds out of it)
• thirty-three hours after I made the least wise decision ever
• nineteen hours after getting home again
• eleven hours after waking up again
• and, respectively: forty, thirty-nine, thirty-eight-and-half, thirty-seven, thirty-four, thirty point three, thirty, twenty nine point nine (recurring), twenty nine and a bit, twenty nine and a smaller bit, twenty nine, one, one half, one quarter, one eighth, and one sixteenth hours since drinking coffee (two shots of espresso. every time.)

It's also coming to you from under an owl blankie.

Icing sugar. Let's talk about icing sugar for a bit. Actually, no, wait, because the hoverer is getting a bit closer and ACTUALLY GIVING ME MORE MATERIAL TO USE SO DON'T BUGGER OFF JUST YET I KINDA NEED YOU THERE BECAUSE IT IS ACTUALLY QUITE FUN AND NEVER MIND THE MANIACAL GRIN CURRENTLY SPREADING ACROSS MY FACE I AM JUST GRINNING ABOUT WRITING AND NOT SOME EVIL PLAN THAT I HAVE IN MIND I SWEAR IT wait where are you going? Oh right, you're just moving three feet so you get a better view of the screen OH WAIT NO DO NOT

too late

i'm blown

and not in the fun way

...welp. Fucked that one up majorly. And now somebody has actually seen the blog before it is published. Trade secrets revealed. I shall be ruined. Unless I...

...I'll be back.

*footsteps, et cetera.*

*sound of silence.*

*more et cetera, and more footsteps.*

That thing you just read was me scooting up to said hoverer and offering them a bribe to keep their mouth shut about the creative process. Now I am destitute. That is a fancy way of saying "broker than a stockbroker". So I need fundage to help me churn out the rest of this series. Send me donations in the usual fashion: if you want to donate cheques or banknotes, superglue them to the back of a dead flying eagle, wait four hours, then smash an egg over your forehead; if coins, find me in the street (look for the blue hair) and stuff them down my jumper (the back please, my nipples are allergic to metal); if credit card, FUCK YOU because I just felt like saying "fuck you" in this blog. But seriously, if credit card, just tap, swipe or insert. Sometimes all three, in that order, and sometimes not with a credit card.

I MEANT A DEBIT CARD TOO YOU DIRTY-MINDED FUCKS.

...ahem. So something has given me awesoma powa tonight in my Blogging Chair. I think it is my owl blankie. Although it could also be the fifty-four square ounces of coffee I consumed about 17.π hours ago. Or the blatant accusations of eating icing sugar under the table. Or the fact that my Curryland producers are so anxiously waiting for me to write another blog that they are staring at me so hard right now that they look like owls. (The one on the left even hooted and stuck out his forked tongue.)

...maybe I do need some sleep. Ta.

the shudders return.