Media TJ's Vacation Diary

[Tigerturbulance]

great vacation diary, as much fun as this

 

[GotTheGoodes]

DAY TWO: GotTheGoodes and the Five Scary Rats:
Once upon a time there was a dirty boy called GotTheGoodes. He was on the way to see his Teammates SarahSmiles, when he decided to take a short cut through Sin City.

It wasn't long before Got got lost. He looked around, but all he could see were trees. Nervously, he felt into his bag for his favourite toy, George, but George was nowhere to be found! Got began to panic. He felt sure he had packed George. To make matters worse, he was starting to feel hungry.

Unexpectedly, he saw a scary rat dressed in a Black bowler hat disappearing into the trees.

"How odd!" thought GotTheGoodes.

For the want of anything better to do, he decided to follow the peculiarly dressed rat. Perhaps it could tell him the way out of the forest.

Eventually, GotTheGoodes reached a clearing. He found himself surrounded by houses made from different sorts of food. There was a house made from cauliflowers, a house made from lollypops, a house made from fruit gums, a house made from cakes, a house made from cupcakes and a house made from jelly babies.

GotTheGoodes could feel his tummy rumbling. Looking at the houses did nothing to ease his hunger.

"Hello!" he called. "Is anybody there?"

Nobody replied.

GotTheGoodes looked at the roof on the closest house and wondered if it would be rude to eat somebody else's chimney. Obviously it would be impolite to eat a whole house, but perhaps it would be considered acceptable to nibble the odd fixture or lick the odd fitting, in a time of need.

A cackle broke through the air, giving GotTheGoodes a fright. A witch jumped into the space in front of the houses. She was carrying a cage. In that cage was George!

"George!" shouted Got. He turned to the witch. "That's my toy!"

The witch just shrugged.

"Give George back!" cried GotTheGoodes.

"Not on your nelly!" said the witch.

"At least let George out of that cage!"

Before she could reply, five scary rats rushed in from a footpath on the other side of the clearing. GotTheGoodes recognised the one in the Black bowler hat that he'd seen earlier. The witch seemed to recognise him too.

"Hello Big Rat," said the witch.

"Good morning." The rat noticed George. "Who is this?"

"That's George," explained the witch.

"Ooh! George would look lovely in my house. Give it to me!" demanded the rat.

The witch shook her head. "George is staying with me."

"Um... Excuse me..." Got interrupted. "George lives with me! And not in a cage!"

Big Rat ignored him. "Is there nothing you'll trade?" he asked the witch.

The witch thought for a moment, then said, "I do like to be entertained. I'll release him to anybody who can eat a whole front door."

Big Rat looked at the house made from jelly babies and said, "No problem, I could eat an entire house made from jelly babies if I wanted to."

"That's nothing," said the next rat. "I could eat two houses."

"There's no need to show off," said the witch. Just eat one front door and I'll let you have George."

GotTheGoodes watched, feeling very worried. He didn't want the witch to give George to Big Rat. He didn't think George would like living with a scary rat, away from his house and all his other toys.

The other four rats watched while Big Rat put on his bib and withdrew a knife and fork from his pocket.

"I'll eat this whole house," said Big Rat. "Just you watch!"

Big Rat pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from lollypops. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

And more.

And more.

Eventually, Big Rat started to get bigger - just a little bit bigger at first. But after a few more fork-fulls of lollypops, he grew to the size of a large snowball - and he was every bit as round.

"Erm... I don't feel too good," said Big Rat.

Suddenly, he started to roll. He'd grown so round that he could no longer balance!

"Help!" he cried, as he rolled off down a slope into the forest.

Big Rat never finished eating the front door made from lollypops and George remained trapped in the witch's cage.

Average Rat stepped up, and approached the house made from fruit gums.


"I'll eat this whole house," said Average Rat. "Just you watch!"

Average Rat pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from fruit gums. She gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

And more.

And more.

After a while, Average Rat started to look a little queasy. She grew greener...

...and greener.

A woodcutter walked into the clearing. "What's this bush doing here?" he asked.

"I'm not a bush, I'm a rat!" said Average Rat.

"It talks!" exclaimed the woodcutter. "Those talking bushes are the worst kind. I'd better take it away before somebody gets hurt."

"No! Wait!" cried Average Rat, as the woodcutter picked her up. But the woodcutter ignored her cries and carried the rat away under his arm.

Average Rat never finished eating the front door made from fruit gums and George remained trapped in the witch's cage.

Little Rat stepped up, and approached the house made from cakes.


"I'll eat this whole house," said Little Rat. "Just you watch!"

Little Rat pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from cakes. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

And more.

And more.

After five or six platefuls, Little Rat started to fidget uncomfortably on the spot.

He stopped eating cakes for a moment, then grabbed another forkful.

But before he could eat it, there came an almighty roar. A bottom burp louder than a rocket taking off, propelled Little Rat into the sky.

"Aggghhhhhh!" cried Little Rat. "I'm scared of heigh..."

Little Rat was never seen again.



Little Rat never finished eating the front door made from cakes and George remained trapped in the witch's cage.

Tiny Rat stepped up, and approached the house made from cupcakes.


"I'll eat this whole house," said Tiny Rat. "Just you watch!"

Tiny Rat pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from cupcakes. She gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

And more.

And more.

However, on the next mouthful, the food fell straight out of Tiny Rat's mouth. She tried to stuff in another forkful of cupcakes, but once again, the food fell out. There just wasn't enough room left in her belly.

"This is just not fair!" declared Tiny Rat, and stomped off into the forest.

Tiny Rat never finished eating the front door made from cupcakes and George remained trapped in the witch's cage.

Even-Tinier Rat stepped up, and approached the house made from jelly babies.


"I'll eat this whole house," said Even-Tinier Rat. "Just you watch!"

Even-Tinier Rat pulled off a corner of the front door of the house made from jelly babies. He gulped it down smiling, and went back for more.

And more.

And more.

Suddenly, Even-Tinier Rat stopped eating and started dancing. While he danced, he sang at the top of his lungs, "Jelly babies! Watch me eat all the jelly babies!"

"It looks as though the jelly babies are making you hyperactive," laughed the witch.

"Oh no they're not!" cried Even-Tinier Rat. "I'm always this excited." With that, he walked into a tree.

Bong!

Even-Tinier Rat banged his head and fell backwards onto his bottom. He passed out, exhausted.

Even-Tinier Rat never finished eating the front door made from jelly babies and George remained trapped in the witch's cage.

"That's it," said the witch. "I win. I get to keep George."

"Not so fast," said GotTheGoodes. "There is still one front door to go. The front door of the house made from cauliflowers. And I haven't had a turn yet.

"I don't have to give you a turn!" laughed the witch. "My game. My rules."

The woodcutter's voice carried through the forest. "I think you should give him a chance. It's only fair."

"Fine," said the witch. "But you saw what happened to the rats. He won't last long."

"I'll be right back," said GotTheGoodes.

"What?" said the witch. "Where's your sense of impatience? I thought you wanted George back."

GotTheGoodes ignored the witch and gathered a hefty pile of sticks. He came back to the clearing and started a small camp fire. Carefully, he broke off a piece of the door of the house made from cauliflowers and toasted it over the fire. Once it had cooked and cooled just a little, he took a bite. He quickly devoured the whole piece.

GotTheGoodes sat down on a nearby log.

"You fail!" cackled the witch. "You were supposed to eat the whole door."

"I haven't finished," explained GotTheGoodes. "I am just waiting for my food to go down."

When GotTheGoodes food had digested, he broke off another piece of the door made from cauliflowers. Once more, he toasted his food over the fire and waited for it to cool just a little. He ate it at a leisurely pace then waited for it to digest.

Eventually, after several sittings, GotTheGoodes was down to the final piece of the door made from cauliflowers. Carefully, he toasted it and allowed it to cool just a little. He finished his final course. Got had eaten the entire front door of the house made from cauliflowers.

The witch stamped her foot angrily. "You must have tricked me!" she said. "I don't reward cheating!"

"I don't think so!" said a voice. It was the woodcutter. He walked back into the clearing, carrying his axe. "This little boy won fair and square. Now hand over George or I will chop your broomstick in half."

The witch looked horrified. She grabbed her broomstick and placed it behind her. Then, huffing, she opened the door of the cage.

GotTheGoodes hurried over and grabbed George, checking that his favourite toy was all right. Fortunately, George was unharmed.

GotTheGoodes thanked the woodcutter, grabbed a quick souvenir, and hurried on to meet SarahSmiles. It was starting to get dark.

When GotTheGoodes got to SarahSmiles house, his Teammates threw his arms around him.

"I was so worried!" cried SarahSmiles. "You are very late."

As GotTheGoodes described his day, he could tell that SarahSmiles didn't believe him. So he grabbed a napkin from his pocket.

"What's that?" asked SarahSmiles.

SarahSmiles unwrapped a doorknob made from lollypops. "Pudding!" he said.

SarahSmiles almost fell off his chair.

The End

I do love me some roasted cauli.... This seems legit.

 

[TJASTA]

DAY THREE: Deprived West Coast Wonders:
Elton Johns Wig looked at the peculiar blade in his hands and felt worried.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his backward surroundings. He had always loved deprived West Coast Wonders with its sleepy, silly shithole. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel worried.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Dingster. Dingster was a spiteful friend with brown abs and sticky hands.

Elton Johns Wig gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a delightful, arrogant, Rose drinker with solid abs and dirty hands. His friends saw him as a disturbed, deadly do gooder. Once, he had even brought a silky old man back from the brink of death.

But not even a delightful person who had once brought a silky old man back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Dingster had in store today.

The sleet rained like running ostriches, making Elton Johns Wig lonely.

As Elton Johns Wig stepped outside and Dingster came closer, he could see the ancient glint in his eye.

Dingster gazed with the affection of 1026 charming purring pigeons. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want to be captain."

Elton Johns Wig looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the peculiar blade. "Dingster, yeah alright," he replied.

They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two moaning, magnificent maggots drinking at a very splendid Leadership Meltdown, which had reggae music playing in the background and two charming uncles walking to the beat.

Elton Johns Wig studied Dingster's brown abs and sticky hands. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Elton Johns Wig in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Ding."

Dingster looked shocked, his emotions raw like a rainy, rabblesnatching rock.

Elton Johns Wig could actually hear Dingster's emotions shatter into 6773 pieces. Then the spiteful friend hurried away into the distance.

Not even a drink of Rose would calm Elton Johns Wig's nerves tonight.

THE END

 

[Dav]

DAY THREE: Deprived West Coast Wonders:
Elton Johns Wig looked at the peculiar blade in his hands and felt worried.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his backward surroundings. He had always loved deprived West Coast Wonders with its sleepy, silly shithole. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel worried.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Dingster. Dingster was a spiteful friend with brown abs and sticky hands.

Elton Johns Wig gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a delightful, arrogant, Rose drinker with solid abs and dirty hands. His friends saw him as a disturbed, deadly do gooder. Once, he had even brought a silky old man back from the brink of death.

But not even a delightful person who had once brought a silky old man back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Dingster had in store today.

The sleet rained like running ostriches, making Elton Johns Wig lonely.

As Elton Johns Wig stepped outside and Dingster came closer, he could see the ancient glint in his eye.

Dingster gazed with the affection of 1026 charming purring pigeons. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want to be captain."

Elton Johns Wig looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the peculiar blade. "Dingster, yeah alright," he replied.

They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two moaning, magnificent maggots drinking at a very splendid Leadership Meltdown, which had reggae music playing in the background and two charming uncles walking to the beat.

Elton Johns Wig studied Dingster's brown abs and sticky hands. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Elton Johns Wig in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Ding."

Dingster looked shocked, his emotions raw like a rainy, rabblesnatching rock.

Elton Johns Wig could actually hear Dingster's emotions shatter into 6773 pieces. Then the spiteful friend hurried away into the distance.

Not even a drink of Rose would calm Elton Johns Wig's nerves tonight.

THE END

This is beautiful. The SFA needs a Booqer Prize to give to this.

 

[GotTheGoodes]

DAY THREE: Deprived West Coast Wonders:
Elton Johns Wig looked at the peculiar blade in his hands and felt worried.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his backward surroundings. He had always loved deprived West Coast Wonders with its sleepy, silly shithole. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel worried.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Dingster. Dingster was a spiteful friend with brown abs and sticky hands.

Elton Johns Wig gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a delightful, arrogant, Rose drinker with solid abs and dirty hands. His friends saw him as a disturbed, deadly do gooder. Once, he had even brought a silky old man back from the brink of death.

But not even a delightful person who had once brought a silky old man back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Dingster had in store today.

The sleet rained like running ostriches, making Elton Johns Wig lonely.

As Elton Johns Wig stepped outside and Dingster came closer, he could see the ancient glint in his eye.

Dingster gazed with the affection of 1026 charming purring pigeons. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want to be captain."

Elton Johns Wig looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the peculiar blade. "Dingster, yeah alright," he replied.

They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two moaning, magnificent maggots drinking at a very splendid Leadership Meltdown, which had reggae music playing in the background and two charming uncles walking to the beat.

Elton Johns Wig studied Dingster's brown abs and sticky hands. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Elton Johns Wig in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Ding."

Dingster looked shocked, his emotions raw like a rainy, rabblesnatching rock.

Elton Johns Wig could actually hear Dingster's emotions shatter into 6773 pieces. Then the spiteful friend hurried away into the distance.

Not even a drink of Rose would calm Elton Johns Wig's nerves tonight.

THE END

I wept.

Then I read this.

 

[Tigerturbulance]

DAY THREE: Deprived West Coast Wonders:
Elton Johns Wig looked at the peculiar blade in his hands and felt worried.

He walked over to the window and reflected on his backward surroundings. He had always loved deprived West Coast Wonders with its sleepy, silly shithole. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel worried.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the figure of Dingster. Dingster was a spiteful friend with brown abs and sticky hands.

Elton Johns Wig gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a delightful, arrogant, Rose drinker with solid abs and dirty hands. His friends saw him as a disturbed, deadly do gooder. Once, he had even brought a silky old man back from the brink of death.

But not even a delightful person who had once brought a silky old man back from the brink of death, was prepared for what Dingster had in store today.

The sleet rained like running ostriches, making Elton Johns Wig lonely.

As Elton Johns Wig stepped outside and Dingster came closer, he could see the ancient glint in his eye.

Dingster gazed with the affection of 1026 charming purring pigeons. He said, in hushed tones, "I love you and I want to be captain."

Elton Johns Wig looked back, even more lonely and still fingering the peculiar blade. "Dingster, yeah alright," he replied.

They looked at each other with angry feelings, like two moaning, magnificent maggots drinking at a very splendid Leadership Meltdown, which had reggae music playing in the background and two charming uncles walking to the beat.

Elton Johns Wig studied Dingster's brown abs and sticky hands. Eventually, he took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," began Elton Johns Wig in apologetic tones, "but I don't feel the same way, and I never will. I just don't love you Ding."

Dingster looked shocked, his emotions raw like a rainy, rabblesnatching rock.

Elton Johns Wig could actually hear Dingster's emotions shatter into 6773 pieces. Then the spiteful friend hurried away into the distance.

Not even a drink of Rose would calm Elton Johns Wig's nerves tonight.

THE END

I got a stiffy reading this, is that wrong?

 

[TJASTA]

DAY FOUR:
I am been a busy boy today, so I went into the archives and found a letter than I wrote for my (former) future captain 3121 premiers. Enjoy.
Be My Prancing Partner Fumbler, Please!
Dear Fumbler,

I am your number one fan!

The first time I saw you, I felt overjoyed. I could not believe a Qooty supersttar could be so delightful and sexy.

Your role in Season 20 premiership was trendy and simply crazy.

I've created a collection of cassette tapes to remind me of you. My bedroom dresser is your shrine, lined with videos.

My ambition is to go to Hippodrome together and engage in some serious prancing. I'd make you sausages then we'd watch football highlights until the sun set.

I'd love it if you could reply to me - tomorrow would be best. Oh, say you'll be my prancing partner Fumbler, please!

With your reply, please enclose some more cassette tapes for my ever-growing collection.

Please, please, please reply.
TJASTA

 

[Dav]

DAY FOUR:
I am been a busy boy today, so I went into the archives and found a letter than I wrote for my future captain 3121 premiers. Enjoy.
Be My Prancing Partner Fumbler, Please!
Dear Fumbler,

I am your number one fan!

The first time I saw you, I felt overjoyed. I could not believe a Qooty supersttar could be so delightful and sexy.

Your role in Season 20 premiership was trendy and simply crazy.

I've created a collection of cassette tapes to remind me of you. My bedroom dresser is your shrine, lined with videos.

My ambition is to go to Hippodrome together and engage in some serious prancing. I'd make you sausages then we'd watch football highlights until the sun set.

I'd love it if you could reply to me - tomorrow would be best. Oh, say you'll be my prancing partner Fumbler, please!

With your reply, please enclose some more cassette tapes for my ever-growing collection.

Please, please, please reply.
TJASTA

You're going to the Royals?

 

[TJASTA]

You're going to the Royals?

This is before I joined the Furies.

 

[Dav]

This is before I joined the Furies.

Oh right. I am illiterate.

 

[Tigerturbulance]

I missed your birthday, whenever that was so here is a late or early card depending when it is

 

[TJASTA]

I missed your birthday, whenever that was so here is a late or early card depending when it is
View attachment 562647

Thanks friend

 

[TJASTA]

DAY FIVE:
All good vacations must come to a end gang, so he is the last story.
The Scaly And Potable Bears
Whose Bears is that? I think I know.
Its owner is quite happy though.
Full of joy like a vivid rainbow,
I watch him laugh. I cry hello.

He gives his Bears a shake,
And laughs until her belly aches.
The only other sound's the break,
Of distant waves and birds awake.

The Bears is scaly, potable and deep,
But he has promises to keep,
After cake and lots of sleep.
Sweet dreams come to him cheap.

He rises from his gentle bed,
With thoughts of kittens in his head,
He eats his jam with lots of bread.
Ready for the day ahead.

 

[Broken]

DAY FOUR:
I am been a busy boy today, so I went into the archives and found a letter than I wrote for my (former) future captain 3121 premiers. Enjoy.
Be My Prancing Partner Fumbler, Please!
Dear Fumbler,

I am your number one fan!

The first time I saw you, I felt overjoyed. I could not believe a Qooty supersttar could be so delightful and sexy.

Your role in Season 20 premiership was trendy and simply crazy.

I've created a collection of cassette tapes to remind me of you. My bedroom dresser is your shrine, lined with videos.

My ambition is to go to Hippodrome together and engage in some serious prancing. I'd make you sausages then we'd watch football highlights until the sun set.

I'd love it if you could reply to me - tomorrow would be best. Oh, say you'll be my prancing partner Fumbler, please!

With your reply, please enclose some more cassette tapes for my ever-growing collection.

Please, please, please reply.
TJASTA

Brilliant. I could not help thinking of this song.