January

 

Well into January now and “what have you done?”, to quote that Lennon fellow who wanted to stay in bed with his monstrous wife and lots of journalists. I have had a very productive weekend in some ways. Late Friday night I began pulling out all of my veins through my fingertips and it was well into Saturday before I’d arranged them on the coffee table, according to colour (blue, red, green etc.)

A nap was then in order. When I awoke the window had been forced open by person or persons unknown and the yardage of veins had been arranged on the floor in the outlline of the British Isles. There are miles and miles of veins in the human body, of course, and this had enabled the intruder to go into great detail with the coastline of Scotland, which can be rather craggy and resembles Wilfrid Brambell in profile, in a bonnet, facing west. Somewhat annoyed by the damaged window, I couldn’t help but admire the innitiative taken by the burglar (for burglary it was; my refrigerator and gold-fish had both been purloined) in using one of their own toenails to form Anglesey.

This, however, proved the villain’s undoing. It was the work of moments to extract a DNA profile from the toenail, which I emailed within the half-hour to my local constabulary. In line with the Citizen’s Charter, I was called soon thereafter and informed of the burglar’s identity – not a male, as I’d assumed for some reason, but a Lady burglar: none other than Jennifer Garner from TV’s Alias and Electra programmes. This was something of a disappointment. I’ve always admired her work and could only assume she’d sunk into criminal pursuits to fund some feverish cocaine addiction or simply committed the crime for her own hedonistic thrills. The officer on the phone (who kept pausing to inhale helium, due to a typo in the Citizen’s Charter (p.43, section 7)) informed me that there was a good chance that Garner would be brought to justice and, at such a time, my fridge and gold-fish would be returned.

I only hope this happens sooner rather than later. My gold-fish (ironically named Jennifer Garner by the staff of the refuge from which he was adopted) becomes quite temperamental when he’s out of his water for more than a few minutes. There’s some very sensitive cheese, as well, which will doubtless spoil if lady-human-Garner has neglected to plug the fridge in.

Yes, it looks like 2008 will be rife with challenges like 1997, 2002, the 1940’s and 1724! Roll on February!