Damn those pipe cleaners!

The work was boring. Unbelievably boring. The battle to remain in a conscious state had begun. I held open my eye lids hoping that when released they’d remain in position but my eyelids are not made from pipe cleaners. I sometimes hoped my nose was, that would be fun, but it was never going to work. Sit up straight. Open that window. Turn that music up. They were all obvious suggestions. If I’m getting out of this one I’ll need cunning.

The most important thing to remember is that you must stay awake!

In an open plan office a sleeping baby is easy to spot. And how they’d scowl if they saw me sleeping. On the job. I dread to think what might happen. I suppose being stabbed over the matter would be somewhat “extreme” given the circumstances but it was something I wasn’t willing to risk. It was getting tough now though. It was getting really tough. My lashes started to narrow my field of vision as my eyes strained to stay open. Damn those pipe cleaners!

I reached out with my legs hoping the stretch may facilitate the solution. The theory was valid. I stretch out in the mornings so maybe I can trick my body into feeling it is the morning. That is cunning! No, that would never work, a terrible idea. What if my body remained 8 hours behind? I’d be in the wrong time zone completely! I’d eventually have to move to Seattle or San Francisco which, on the face of it, didn’t strike me as a particularly bad idea, it just wasn’t something I’d budgeted for. Anyway, it’s probably not the best idea to piss off my body right now anyway. I ate a dodgy marrow last night and I’m still having repercussions. Nope, I was going to need to change my tactic. But it was too late for I had already thrown my plan into action. I was desperate and it was chaos up there. Someone needed to take control. But it was too late. The order had been given and the legs were out. I had slumped. I was now at my desk, laying down, incapable of retracting. All I had left was my rationale, barely conscious conscience. “Must stay awake, must stay awake…”

It was at this point that I woke up.

Peru Sports

On Mondays in Peru they play sports that begin with M. Such as Muneriol. This is a strange sport that uses a tennis racket and a goat. The idea being that the goat must remain seated on the racket untill the contender drops it. Of course, holding a racket and a goat takes a great deal of strength and so very few Perusians are capable of playing. Instead these people wait till Wednesday when all sports played begin with W. Wauelle is pretty much the same game but the goat is substituted for a small pony. The racket attached to the sadle, facing southwards, the cotender must remain seated for the duration of the donkey’s journey; wherever this may lead.

El Pablo Juan Si Jose Romaso is the all time Champion of Munerial after he carried his goat [Bella] to Argentina only to discover on arrival that Bella had indeed eaten the racket. Never-the-less the record stood and since then nobody has even come close to breaking this phenomenal achievment.

To celebrate this said feat, Peru holds the Sambopella festival anually. An event that celebrates the team work of man and goat. 94 days later, on July 27th, Argentina hold the Moradez festival. An event that celebrates the arrival of El Pablo and Bella and the sport itself. In South West Ireland during a week in August The Puck Fair is held. A goat is suspended in the centre of the village while the locals and visitors from all across Europe drink and party below. This has nothing to do with it.