Wednesday, 9 May 2012

I have got French saline in my jugs you see, see...

Now, yesterday, the topic of What Constitutes Talent cropped up at work.

Apparently, in that Britain's Allegedly Got Talent, everyone's in awe of something. Seems that the cream of British Talent is a dancing dog!

Myself, I don't rate Amanda Holdall's flouncing about in Thoroughly Modern Millie that highly. Although she did play Princess Fiona Phillips in Wayne Rooney: The Musical. Which makes her more a dancing troll than a dancing dog.

Either way, she's a bitch.

Possibly.

Anyhoo, as ever, I got berated for not recognising her Outstanding Talent. Said talent presumably being a talent for Shagging Piss-Poor Mavis Riley Impressionists. And so The Xym got called out - what does The Xym think Talent is? Is he just sooooo fantastically talented¹ he can whip Amanda Holden's arse?

* muses on that thought for a minute or two *
* shudders *
* realises a Dominatrix Holden being Cat Deely O' Nine tails'd on the posterior by David Walliams is a horrifyingly believable event quite within the bounds of possibility *
* eurgh! *


So, following on from that debacle, I decided to put my money where Holden Appreciators mouths are, and showcase my diverse multi-faceted talenture in the Ex-fucked'er Audition bus, for today it was outside The Forum in Norwich!

Alas, the queue was too long and the weather too cold to spend my lunch hour shivering in the damp, clad in naught but police tape heat-moulded to my privvy parts.

So I didn't bother and headed back to work. Now the world will have to miss out on my rendition of Lady Gaga & Beyoncé's Telephone.

The trouble is, now that I've gone to the trouble of having norkitudinal enhancements to impress Dannii Minogue in order to get a million squid recording contract as a believable Lady Gaga II², I'm going to have to get 'em reversed. And because I had mammarial inflation to boost my crooning career, it's gonna be difficult to get 'em out³. Especially now the NHS won't do it because these PIP augmentations are French, and they won't touch them with a barge pole baguette because they're filled with a garlic scented slimey snail trailed saline solution.

Or some other similarly preposterous NHS austerity based excuse!

I must say, I'm not looking forward to peeling off this tape. I KNEW I should have gone for the Stars & Stripes lycra binkinini, but you know me - I have to go for the more extreme option!

Still, it does make me stand out somewhat in the office.

Just as long as one of them Pretties down Rosso Totty Avenue doesn't walk past, and make me "stand up" in the office.

Tape will only stretch so far...

¹ OH, HOLD ON A MINUTE. I AM!!!
² SAID BELIEVABILITY INCREASED DUE TO ACTUALLY HAVING A COCK
³ THE IMPLANTS, THAT IS. NOT MY PIRANHA 3DD MOOBAGES!!