We've been through this before.
Like some Youtubed charlatan, The Board had his moment of electronic fame but disappeared into ignominy when he realised he could not type more than 400 words per day.
The hole in the internet was sharp and juicy as bloggers everywhere wondered aloud where their bi-weekly quotient of toilet jokes had gone.
Askeaton, Glin, Newcastle West and a dirty isolated forest road in Kilcornan is the answer.
Alas the expense account had to run out eventually, so The Board has returned, decrepit as the day Jebus made him.
What did we miss? Willie got the bullet, as did Eamon Dunne. Jim McDaid popped his gasket and The Board popped his shoulder joint.
Ailments and idiocy aside, The Board will try to keep you abrest of all such things in future, before his Tracy Jordan-esque habit of eating batteries claims his sweet, tender young life.
No comments:
Post a Comment