Utinam possem volant, usque ad cælum non possum...

IC Name: King_Key Joined: 8 Mar 2006 Last visit: 11 hours ago Sex/gender: Male Location: UK

Kelly Jones famously observed " I'm just Lou King. ".

Well that's alright for him to say that. I'm not, I'm just ' Obs ' Irving. Sounds slightly medical, doesn't it ? Don't be misled. I am not a doctor or The Doctor.

So, as a certain, confident, maker of suits once used to exhort those who liked to consume citrus fruits and bananas, I also will :-

' Keep 'em peeled '

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5ObXLUYah7k

Maybe, when I have seen enough and feel sufficiently qualified I will commence upon a regular blog here, passing subjective comment upon whatever topic takes my fancy while sat firmly on the fence about the matter in hand.

Look out for Reece Irving :- Judgement .

I can also be found on Fet Life at this link: https://fetlife.com/users/224352

In the absence of anything remotely sensible to add, here is something to entertain me and maybe you as well.

A Tale About A Biscuit

A tale about a biscuit indeed, not that many individual biscuits have their own tale and certainly no individual biscuit should have a tail, that is to say not one that it has actually grown itself, at least; but anyway, I digress and am in danger of not finishing this sentence with it being lost in myriad clauses and sub clauses. Damn you conjunctions, tempting me with your pouting conjunctiveness.

So . . . biscuits. A tip. Never pause for too long afterwards when saying ' so ' because often people who are very amusing will say ' buttons ' in that gap and while not necessarily diverting the conversation towards haberdashery, it can be quite off putting to the drift of what you were hoping to announce.

So, biscuits. For the record, there are very few biscuits you can effectively sew. It is also worth noting since we are touching on the subject, sowing buscuits will not produce a biscuit tree or other similar bush or plant. You may, however be responsible for a rise in gum disease for the local worm population. Ants will love you. It is also good news for vermian dentists.

So, biscuits. It was the other day and I was exchanging wry and witty banter on a forum on the interweb about a very engaging topic and a riposte to one of my many quips was

" I suppose you think that is very clever ? Well done ! Have an extra biscuit with your next cup of tea. "

Well, while I am not a tea-drinker exclusively, I rarely partake of the twice baked comestible with an infusion of India's finest leaves. Still, I was quite excited at the prospect and even if the tone of the offer could be construed as being less than sincere, I thought of the more positive aspect, namely an extra biscuit which by definition was a reward and therefore special.

I eagerly awaited my next hot beverage, which as it turned out was not for another three and a half hours. Time had certainly dragged sitting in front of the computer reading blogs and exchanging inane comments on Facebook but sometimes waiting for those Farmville crops to mature is all you can do and a talent for killing time is essential.

The kettle seemed to take ages to boil, well it always does when you are watching it, doesn't it ? Realising I needed some milk, I walked into the town centre to buy two pints of green-top and a cauliflower for my tea and ' hey-presto ' when I got back home the kettle had not only boiled but had started to cool down again, considerably so. I began to wonder if I would ever get my extra biscuit !!!!!

Switching the kettle on again, I put coffee into the cup despite the instruction clearly favouring tea but look, I wasn't going to get into an argument with the fella over that and besides he didn't need to know. Whatever goes on in my cup, stays in my cup, that's just how I roll. Obviously it makes it difficult to drink the coffee/tea if I keep that rule too strictly but I feel I am now over explaining this point. Soon the steam rolled in and around itself as it expanded, rushing out of and forming a warm cloud above the spout, followed almost immediately by a resounding pistol-like crack across the silence of the kitchen, confirmation that the appliance had completed its task.

Sugar added and cow-juice at the ready the anticipation was almost too much and I had to be careful not to spill the scalding hot, bringer of caffine related pleasures, other than the coffee itself, that is to say, the water. Have you tried eating coffee ? Milk, to taste and with a whirl or two of the tea-spoon, all was ready.

I looked into the biscuit tin with wide eyed joy. I saw a perfect Bourbon nestled next to a Custard Cream and a Pink (cream filled) Wafer and sitting atop a pile of Garibaldis. There were no chips or dents and not a crack in its slim elegant body, with the name proudly imprinted on the dark brown casing which was studded, on the outside with sparkling crystals of sugar, protecting its dark, rich, chocolatey, cream-fondant filling.

I picked it up carefully, reverentially and placed it on a side-plate that I had already dressed with a doily. It sat there on its own, on the throne of the intricate paper filagree, regal in its solitude, for that moment in time luxuriating in its title of the King of all Biscuits .

It was indeed my extra biscuit, bestowed upon me by a random keyboard warrior many miles from here, perhaps even from across the oceans, I don't know, I didn't check, the details of whom were, by now, unimportant.

The moment had come, as I sat in front of my computer once again, having foregone my usual two biscuits in its stead, I had that one extra biscuit, on its own, with nothing to rival its moment or steal its thunder, as was befitting of its status.

The End

I hope you had nothing better to do for the last few minutes because I can't give you that time back, even if I wanted to, which if I'm honest I probably should look into trying to do.

This is an extract from my forthcoming book, ' Tales of the Dull and Ordinary '.

This profile was last updated on 23 Jan 12, 11:33 AM.

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