Friday, 6 May 2016

I've just gone bonkers

Today I seem to have "hit the blogging wall".
My mind has gone blank, I can think of nothing, zilch, zero to write about 
and the harder I try to find inspiration the more elusive it becomes.

Escape never occurred to me.

Does anyone really care that my three goldfish have vanished into thin air
over night?  There are no signs of forced entry to my tiny back garden, nothing
has been damaged, the fountain (which is precariously balanced on a pile of
bricks in the centre of the pond) is still in place and yet they have somehow
managed to disappear.

Hancer in action

My best guess is that a visiting hancer has swooped in (and out) under cover
of the early morning mist.  Bastard - I hope they gave him indigestion -
and what am I going to do with all that fish food I've just bought?

Is anyone bothered that pigeons have eaten all my curly kale plants; that
starlings have crapped all over my car again; or that I delight in watching the
blackbird take his early morning bath in the trough beside the back door?
Probably not.  The unopened milk has curdled in my fridge again even though
it's still well within date and I don't think I should eat the remaining rollmop
herring which was hidden behind the milk as it's gone a funny colour.  It would
most probably glow in the dark but I have no way of proving this.

In desperation I Googled "hit the wall" as I thought the phrase might have
interesting origins that I could regail you with.  On Runner's World it said
"When an athlete's body stalls mid-run it's called hitting the wall or bonking
and is a bodily form of sedation."  And there are many varieties apparently:

- muscle-glycogen bonk = brain OK, legs gone
- blood-glucose bonk = legs OK, brain wiped
- the everything bonk = dehydration, system meltdown
- little purple men bonk = hallucinations, I have left for another planet

My duck pond last year.

But there's other non-running meanings of "bonk" too such as
- bonk = to hit one's head hard on something.  And, of course, the good old
British term "bonking", a widely acceptable word for having sex which is not
quite so distasteful as "shag" (NB also a type of seabird which leaves me to wonder
if my goldfish had been "shagged" and not "hancered" as I originally thought)
and far less offensive than the Anglo-Saxon word which rhymes with duck
(a pair of which, as you may recall, honeymooned on my pond last year).

The Urban Dictionary offers a slightly different variation on the subject of
wall hitting and a certain degree of bonking may or not enter the equation
and then leave again.  Apparently it's the point at which a girl that used to be hot
is hot no more typically due to advancing age.  All very depressing really and
maybe my generation should now be renamed "the baby bonkers who
have hit the wall."

Anyone fancy a shag?

So there you have it - a fishy story involving various birds, sour milk,
running terms and a jolly good dollop of sex for good measure.
And all that on an empty brain - did you manage to keep up?

1 comment: