Tuesday 17 February 2009

Sarlog Homs and the case of the web log

Hello!
Guten tag!
Konnichiwa!
Rounda-the-flago!
Pork pork!
Just some examples of the many languages I know, there.

Welcome to a web-log written by a man who has the intelligence of a duck.
"A duck?", you might say, "That's not much to boast about."
Well shut your stupid mouth and listen to this more detailed explaination.

Imagine, if you will (and you will), a duck kidnapped by some kind of space alien. Maybe the alien has more than two eyes!!! The duck is subjected to 'mind tests' and 'injections'. The alien technology makes this duck the superior of all it's peers. The most intelligent duck who ever lived! The size of his brain! IT IS LARGE!
Large for a duck, anyway.
It doesn't make him Einstein or anything, but he can certainly hold his own in a pub quiz. Especially if that pub quiz is particularly duck-oriented.
Now you are starting to get a picture of this duck, with his Superintelligence and his human friends. Perhaps he gets a date with a human lady after wooing her with knowledge of nineteenth century industry, but she cancels the day before because she doesn't know if she could ever be comfortable in a relationship with a duck. He becomes dejected and bitter. What kind of life is that for a duck?
He finds living in an apartment difficult. He can't cultivate the algae and pond weeds he needs to keep himself sustained.
"Curse those aliens for making me Superintelligent!" he shouts at no one in particular.
The man below bangs on the floor of the aparment (his ceiling) "I've had enough of you cursing aliens all night!" he shouts, "It's four before breakfast!"
He will jump, he decides, from the window of his apartment into the street below.
What choice does the duck have but to end his own life?

There, you see! Now you feel less inclined to mock someone who claims to have the intelligence of a duck (as long as the claim is qualified with the word 'Superintelligent').

Now since I've started 'web-logging' (little more than a few nano-hours ago) I've had literally one request for an answer to the question, "Who the sh*t is Sarlog Homs?"
Well the easy answer is 'Me'!
I've adopted the mantle of the world's greatest interdimensional (and possibly fictional) detective because I felt that too long had the world been drifting askew without a Sarlog Homs for the ipod generation. Too long has this fantastical bombastical person been a void in the consciousness of the young people.
No more, I say, no more! I say it twice for emphasis and in case people weren't listening the first time. Also the second time is louder.

Here I return and here I shall stay.

Your most humble &c. &c


Det. Sarlog Homs

4 comments:

  1. Welcome to the interwebs, Mr. Homs. I am saddened by the plight of your (hypothetical) duck, but I assume that his fall from the building would have been at least partially mitigated by this selfsame duck's wings. Continue your postings, I pray you, such that we may hear more about this duck.

    Yours,

    Vellum

    ReplyDelete
  2. Dear Mr. Homs,

    I am very disappointed. I hired you to find Estonia two months ago and there is still a gap where it should be in my atlas. I refuse to pay your fees until the work is done. (And incidentally, do I look like the sort of man who can afford 17p and half a Curly Wurly? It's disgraceful, I tell you.)

    Yours huffingly,
    Angry From The Internet

    ReplyDelete
  3. Madam,

    Estonia!
    Wha-ha!
    Why, of course, gracious mistress, the hunt for that particular country is still on.
    We draw ever nearer to a conclusion, I assure you, but let me tell you I was wrong footed by a Ukranian Sea Adder and had to take several months recovery. The sea adder is a capricious fellow and regailed me with stories of 'the old country' until I fell ill with pneumonia.

    For you, sir,

    S. Homs (Det.)

    P.S. Don't suppose I could have an advance on the Curly Wurly?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Homs,

    No you bloody can't have an advance. However, since I too have suffered at the hands of a sea adder (the hands here not actually being metaphorical, the fellow had rigged up some sort of marvellous mechanical suit), I am willing to add one (1) chocolate M&M (NOT peanut) to your payment upon completion of your assignment.

    Yours grudgingly,
    A.F.T.I.

    ReplyDelete