Mrs Eyebrows

Yaxlich had to head into his local Big Town today. When he was there he saw Mrs Eyebrows. It looks like she's got a job for the local council. Either that or it's a new fashion to wear bright flourescent tabards with the name of your local government authority written on the back. Tabard. A sadly underused word. He thinks he might use it more often.

Blogger Smells Of Poo

Yaxlich just spent the last hour writing a post. It was a good one. Sadly you'll never read it because Blogger decided to eat it for no apparent reason. Yaxlich hates Blogger. It smells of poo. UPDATE: It also ate Zoes post too. It really is mean today.

Yaxlich Revealed

As requested by The Girl and Zoe:

Happy Birthday, Blog

One year ago today, Yaxlich started a blog which he called The World of Yaxlich. He said at the time "Yaxlich doesn't know what he's going to say on his Blog. Sometimes Yaxlich has lots to say and sometimes he doesn't have anything to say." Over the last year he has blogged about all sorts of things including dogs with blogs, fat people, Playstation addiction and a certain medical condition. He launched a charity, corrected the BBC, made some rubbish Photoshop pictures, discussed his winky, won an award or two, had toilet issues, suffered from mutant eyebrows and talked about old mans baby gravy. Other things discussed have been polar bears winkies, farting, not being gay, sheep poo, books, films and the purpose of daddy longlegs. A post made in October found its way into a book but posts about rude town names, how to cure hiccups, Friday 13th, farting cows, bogies, botty problems and irritating women didn't. He got one year older, tried to make a difference, discovered a man with a firework up his bum, met smelly unemployed people, wrote a guest article on one of his favourite blogs, saw some big breasts and discussed penis size. Along the way he has picked up some great Googlies, laughed at fart videos, celebrated Christmas, discovered a new Teletubby, answered memes, invented a new phrase, challenged spammers, talked about musical condoms and discovered the key to eternal happiness which led to him posting yet more Googlies, getting a new job, having cheesy dreams, writing about dogs wiping their arse (and subsequent video), women with willies, constipation and showing the world pictures of his underpants. He thinks he might have been right. Sometimes he just simply doesn't have anything to say.

Tales From The Pant Drawer Part 4

Tales From The Pant Drawer Part 3

Tales From The Pant Drawer Part 2

Tales From The Pant Drawer

Bumblebees

Yaxlich is back after his extended Easter break. He hopes that you didn't miss him too much. He sees that there is currently a crisis in the bumblebee world where mobile phone usage is being blamed for the decline in the number of bees in the UK. Yaxlich is sad about this. He likes bees. They buzz around in their own merry little way, drunk on pollen and then make pots of honey. He thinks they're very clever to do this and imagines lots of little bees in a miniature glass blowing factory. He doesn't like wasps, though. As far as he can see wasps serve no purpose. All they do is sting you when you're least expecting it. If they did something useful, like make jam, then he might be more tolerant of them.

So Long And Thanks For All The Pants

Last year Yaxlich launched the Pant Aid appeal. He was woefully short of underpants following a terrible outbreak of Betty Swollocks and, since he was unemployed at the time, he sought the financial contributions of his loyal readership. Today he is pleased to show the evidence of underpant purchases to those who graciously supported the cause. Yaxlich is off for the Easter holidays. He'll be back some time next week. He asks that you behave yourselves whilst he's away and that you don't leave any spam in his comment box because it will only smell when he comes back.

Shouty

The AP doesn't show any signs of getting a job. This means that she is in the flat all day. Every day. She doesn't do much. Sometimes she sits in the kitchen reading the newspaper. Sometimes she is on the phone to other people who talk funny. Sometimes she is on the internet looking at whatever it is the APs look at. Mainly she parks herself in the front room and watches telly. She has discovered some Spanish channels on Sky and she watches them all day. As far as he can see, they're soap operas. What Yaxlich has learnt about Spanish soap operas: They always have girls with big bosoms They always have one ridiculously handsome man in an episode People in Spain still think moustaches look good They are always shouting He wonders what it must be like for foreign people watching EastEnders. He guesses that his Spanish equivalent would come up with this list: All British people are clinically depressed Nobody in Britain owns a washing machine Everyone in Britain is ugly There is no Spanish translation for "wassamatter?"