The Word Cloud

Hi any interested World Clouders

Disaster has struck! I am writing this Blog from a hospital bed!

After the World Cup I purchased a Ghanaian Propeller Cap on Sale for like, 30p.  I was really chuffed because I have been wearing my flashing Bafana Bafana Cap a lot, I even wore it to my friend's wedding on Saturday, and yes, I did turn the lights off during prayers, I'm not that ignorant! Anyway, I decided I needed a change. My new cap was obviously the deluxe version, it was battery powered and rotated all the time, even when it wasn't windy. I was Gobsmacked!

Working on my latest play, "Noise Terrorism - A New Threat Stalks The West", I experienced the dreaded Writer's Block.  Bored and wandering from room to room, I put on my new cap and strolled into the bedroom to check myself out in the mirror, completely forgetting that the ceiling fan was on!

Oh, it was dreadful!  One minute nothing more serious than writer's block to worry about, the next whizzing around the room like a... like an... like an out of control, overweight, ageing, propeller cap wearing housewife, mangled around a rapidly overheating ceiling fan! Even now tears spring from my eyes and my hands shake so much I can hardly type, the memories are so traumatic! Oh!

Our cat who had been sleeping on the bed, leapt up and sprang out the window. Presumably he thought I was experimenting with the whole 'Swinging A Cat Around By It's Tail' thing, and that he'd be next. He landed on the tin roof of the shed, which was hot! Being an old cat he didn't so much jump as totter, and then slid off, falling six feet to the ground.  Luckily he landed on his feet, but he got such a fright he dug his claws into the rock hard earth and then fell over sideways. It took my husband two hours of hard labour with a pick and shovel to dig the poor thing out. He's now at the vet's being treated for shock - the cat not my husband.

By now the fan was glowing red,  and my propeller had melted and was splashing molten plastic all over the place. I thought my time had come, but I was saved by the buffalo head! This being South Africa, we have dead animals' heads mounted all over our small house.  I never really liked the buffalo's head in the bedroom, I've watched a lot of those style shows on the telly, and thought that the head rather dominated the room.  My husband insists this is rubbish, after all this is Africa, and if we can't have dead animals hanging around all over the place, then who can? For the World Cup he even stuck vuvuzelas in their mouths for a joke. How everyone who came to our house bellowed with laughter, we do know how to have fun in this country! Even now I get tears in my eyes just thinking about it! Oh, wait, no, that's pain, my morphine injection must be wearing off.

But, as I was saying, the buffalo head saved my life!  My increasingly erractic revolutions were swinging me further and further into the room, until finally, my trousers caught on the buffalo's horns, I was brutally seperated from my cap, and fell to the floor in a daze.  The fan sheared from its' mounting and richocheted around the room, narrowly missing my husband who had come to see what all the noise was about.  "F***!" he shouted, (we swear a lot in this country), "We're being attacked by terrorists!" and ran off to call 911.

I was staggering to my feet when the riot police stormed in shooting rubber bullets and tear gas around the place, shouting and screaming and being thoroughly third worldish. The buffalo head fell of the the wall and landed on my head, and I remember nothing more until I woke up in hospital.

So, here I am stranded in hospital, and terribly in need of support from my Word Cloud friends

Caf * * : - ((