I miss my baby brother. Oh, how I miss him. And I only saw him on Sunday! :( Bought him two books today. It'll be years before he can read them but as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle said: "It is a great thing to start life with a small number of really good books which are your very own." And these two books have lions in them (although, besides being children's picture books, they have nothing else in common) and are therefore AWESOME.
My brain is tired. Which I'm sure you'd like to know.
Shout out to a certain Miss E, whom I miss abominably.
Because of the aforesaid tiredness of my brain, I shall not continue blogging in this vein. I will provide you instead with some free laughter (besides that link, which my driveling intellect found entertaining). A while back a certain book drifted into the keeping of my family. We lost it after a short period of time but never forgot it, because it was simple pure gorgeous hilarity in written form. Unable to lay hands on a copy for several years, because somehow this gem went out of print we forgot about it until I remembered one day and scanned ebay for it. And bought it for only a few dollars.
Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to The Puffin Book of Heroic Failures. Excerpts here for your reading pleasure.
The Least Successful Nurse
While serving on the wards of King's College Hospital, London, in 1987, a student nurse saw a frail, elderly woman seated upon the edge of a bed. 'Time for your bath,' said the good nurse. 'I've already had one,' replied the old woman, who showed signs of confusion.
With kindly firmness the nurse led the old woman to her bath, took off her clothes and washed her thoroughly. On returning to the ward, the nurse said, 'Someone else has got into your bed.'
'It's my sister,' replied the old lady. 'I've come to visit her.'
The Least Successful Exhibition
The Royal Society for the Prevention of Accidents held an exhibition at Harrogate in 1968. The entire display fell down.
Slowest Selling Postcard
The world's slowest selling postcard depicts a fascinating Tibetan rain-bucket. The inspired publications officer at the Victoria and Albert Museum had 5,000 copies of this exquisite card printed. Of these, twenty-four were destroyed in a flood and 4,972 are still avaliable. Only four were ever sold...
If I don't go to bed soon I'll impale myself on a sword made solely of my own sharp tiredness.
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