Day 7 – St Ives

Far out in the uncharted backwaters of the fashionable south westerly end of United Kingdom lies a pointy unregarded county. Along the Northern coast not too far from Lands End lies an utterly insignificant town whose ape descended bipedal lifeforms are so primitive that they still think that the internet is just a pipe dream.

The town has – or rather had – a problem, which was this:

Most of the people who visited the town were unhappy when the Sun wasn’t shining. Many solutions were suggested for this problem, but most of these involved the exchange of small pieces of green paper for over priced fashionable surfwear, which is odd because on the whole it wasn’t the the small pieces of green paper that were unhappy.

And so the problem remained; lots of people were unpleasant and most of them were miserable, even the ones with access to the internet.

Many were increasingly of the opinion that they’d all made a big mistake in coming down from the West Midlands in the first place. And some said that evolving from apes had been a bad move, how Ironic then that a large majority of these lifeforms still closely resemble chimpanzees in their behaviour.

And then, one Friday, approximately two millennia after one man had been allegedly nailed to a cross for preaching about tolerance and being nice to thy neighbour for a change, one man whilst sitting on his own by a lake in Sutton Park fishing suddenly realised what it was that had been going wrong all this time, and he finally knew how he could make everyone in St Ives happy all of the time. This time it was right, it would work, and no one would have to get crucified.

Sadly, however, before he could get to a phone to tell anyone about it, his Three mobile phone signal dropped, and the idea was lost forever.

This is not his story.

It is however the story of a family from the West Midlands trying in vain to escape unhappiness by finding Sunshine and some of the consequences.

It is also the story of a blog, a blog entitled – not a worthwhile blog, barely viewed on Earth, and until the quest for sunshine, never seen or heard of by anyone.

In fact it was probably the most unworthwhile blog ever to be written by the writer whose pseudonym is NeoplasmSix – whom no Earthling had ever heard of either.

Not only is it a wholly unworthwhile blog, it is also written in a highly plagiarised and inaccurate style – More plagiarised than Dan Brown’s “The Da Vinci Code” and more inaccurate than government recommended school history text books. “It was the Germans that started it”,”the Germans started it again” and “Thats the Germans fucked, Lets blame everything on the Muslims next”.

On some of the established Social Networking sites has supplanted the world renowned Wikipedia as the standard repository of all inaccurate knowledge and misinformation, although it has many omissions and contains a vast amount of wildly inaccurate facts, it scores over the older Wikipedia in two important respects.

First, it isn’t edited by wankers with material detremental to the elite families removed; and secondly it has the word Simpedia inscribed in large friendly and most probably trademarked letters on the banner.

But the story of this rainy, miserable Friday, the story of several unremarkable anecdotes, and the story of how these anecdotes are tenuously intertwined with this blog begins rather.

It begins with an apartment.

The apartment was on the ground floor of a 4 storey block overlooking the trendy surf beach – it was approximately 50 years old, squarish, made of brick and spread over 2 floors and had a window on the upper floor of decent proportion with a size and proportion that was good but as good as the balcony that wasn’t there.

The three people, to whom the apartment was in any way special were Sam, Jacob and Alex, and that was only because they were currently halfway through a two week vacation. It hadn’t properly registered with them that the apartment population was about to double. At eight o’clock that morning Alex didn’t feel very good. That was because it was 8 o’clock and not half past ten. He got up pulled himself together brushed his teeth and proceeded downstairs to make breakfast for the others.

Kettle, bowls, coffee, tea, cereal, bread toast. Fart!

He called Sam and Jacob down for their breakfast which they duly demolished in a style not dissimilar to a pack of hungry hyenas. Alex got changed into the same pair of shorts he had worn all week, they were so grubby that the dirt and grease marks were starting to wear off, another week and they would probably be clean again. Alex took the car out of the garage in preparation for the telephone call. At approximately half past nine the phone rang and Alex eased the car out of the drive and was brought to a halt immediately by the delivery driver for the local shop, one illegal move later involving a one way street and within a few minutes he was pulling into the car park. The car was loaded up with Adam, Bethan and Maya’s belongings. The volume to volume ratio of belongings was roughly 18.3% Parents 81.7% Child, which was well within ISO standards.

After an hour or so of chaos the group shuffled into town for lunch. Pasty, pasty, baguette, baguette, chips, piss and back to the apartment. The chance of sun today was as remote as the likelihood of rain on the Sahara, that didn’t deter them though. Ludicrous. The beach was still damp from yesterday’s rain, today’s rain was due in 23 minutes. The tent was up within seconds due to a patented tent erection technique involving no effort.

By a curious coincidence, not at all is exactly how surprised bipedal Sam and Alex were that Susan the young girl from next door was not in her parents apartment, but was in fact standing within yards of the tent in a manner that suggested that she was about to impose herself and overstay her welcome, the welcome that expired 3 days earlier after a generic beach appliance incident.

‘It’s my last day’ she wailed. Alex struggled to stifle his excitement but got away with it by looking in exactly the opposite direction. Susan struck most she met as a stalker, a harmless one but a stalker nevertheless. Sam, Jacob and Alex rotated playing beach tennis and shouting whilst Susan decided that she would impose on Adam and Bethan. Having rifled through Maya’s bag she turned and left without as much as a whisper.

23 minutes had passed and the rain started on cue, all five packed up and returned to the apartment.

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