According to legend, as I often like to begin things, the only thing comparable to life is chocolate, and the only other thing comparable to chocolate is a slow fall over a waterfall. Hence, life is like a slow fall over a waterfall, and we should all be happy that the view is good and it's not too dry. It also explains why people like to share life with other people, as then you can flick water at each other and complain about the apple cores in the water with you.
What does this clumsy analogy have to do with anything? Well, I have no idea. It might be leading up to a Funny Story, where capitals always imply that it will be nothing of the kind, and probably only tangentially connected to truth. Once, while in my undergraduate studies at Aberystwyth - the great Welsh Valhalla - I woke up one morning and contemplated the day ahead. Being filled with vigour and optimism I leaped out and went forth and lo, outside of the front door to Pumlumon, I beheld the Great Welsh Jogger
<departs from reality quickly>
The Great Welsh Jogger is Nine Feet Tall and a harbinger of all things confusing and contradictory. Clothed in the traditional jogging outfit of shorts and a t-shirt, the Jogger carries two soft weights and has a belt made out of sausages. Needless to say, big curly brown hair is seen sprouting out around a blue headband. Looking from side to side I edged onto the pavement and then to the side. The Jogger was obliviously tying her shoes.
Silently I backed down the pavement until reaching Toilet Alley and evading the potentially eagle eye line of the Jogger. Never would I see that hideous embodiment of chaos again, but never would life be calm once more. The horror had begun, and of course it was a Saturday.
Funny? I think not.
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