Suitcase Fun

I've been a bit quiet of late haven't I? Oh well, I guess no one really cares and I've had very little to say any way.  I recently got lost in deep thought after seeing a notice for Tap dancing classes on the wall in the kitchen back at the office.  I had a sudden vision of me in the shitty church hall Tap dancing at high speed with an enormous smile on my face.  Tap dancers always have enormous smiles don't they?  People often perceive them as gigantic wankers but hell, they're bloody happy and in my head I was really pleased with myself and having an absolute Tap dancing ball!  I discussed this with my pal Bison and his Tap dancing happiness theory was that Tap dancing originated in 'the olden days' when people knew no better and this was quality entertainment.  I reflected then that if  playing with a hoop and a stick back then was akin to having an X-Box, then Tap dancing must be like having a Wii.  Of course we realised we were talking utter shit but it seemed like a serious historical conversation at the time.  Not the type of historical conversation someone like say, David Mitchell might have, but a historical conversation nonetheless.

Ooh, I forgot - I can do a bit of Samuel Pepys-ing: proper news here;  Elizabeth Taylor kicked the bucket today.  Shit, that reminded me.  As perhaps the crappiest of diarists, I didn't log the huge Earthquake and Tsunami situation which has fucked Japan did I? Rather in-eloquently (is that even a word?) I can say it was REALLY bad shit.  Actually, really REALLY bad shit.  If anyone in the future is reading this (who am I kidding?) there are much better accounts of what happened pretty much ANYWHERE else you'd care to look.  Sigh, I'm so bloody rubbish.

Any hoo, I called this entry 'Suitcase Fun' and here we come to another of my reveries.  Yesterday I had to attend an all day training session on Safeguarding Vulnerable Adults so I had great scope to get lost in thought.  At one point the trainer used the example of a guy who'd ended up allowing bad people (bad is probably a bit of a weak description actually) to live in his flat but they murdered him and put his body in a suitcase! After the initial feelings of 'bloody hell, poor bugger!' I started thinking about the haunted suitcase I took away with me last year.  It was deep and I wondered if I would fit into it (whilst alive).

I was totally gone. I knew I wouldn't be able to zip it up myself so would have to enlist the assistance of housemate and famed Tidiness Nazi Steph to help.  I guessed she would but then would have to have a laugh to herself by walking away and leaving me!  Hell, I could feel the claustrophobia and hear my weakening voice as I tried to bawl at her in a commanding way to demand that she unzip me.  Later on I shared my fears that she would one day soon zip me into an enormous suitcase and would then just leave me in it for hours as I slowly suffocated.  Hell, who knows if suitcases allow air in?  I would guess not and that's why so many dead people end up in them.  Do they leak bodily fluids or allow the stink out?  NO, I don't think they do and that is why it would be bad for me to be completely zipped up in one.  We came to an agreement that should I, at some time in the near future, ask her to assist me in being sealed up in the haunted suitcase, she leaves gap enough for me to breathe through.  I am pleased to announce that this agreement has been reached.

I was then lost in thought again.  I could see the suitcase in front of the tv with just one of my eyes peering out of the gap.  I actually took comfort in this vision.  It sounds lovely. 

...apart from the fact the sodding haunted suitcase would never stand up on it's own.  I'd be mightily pissed off if it fell over and I was unable to see anything.  Is it wrong to fancy Sportacus from Lazy Town?