The Year Of Living Rantily Pt.X

With the inexorable inevitability of Mondays and toothache comes the next installment in Dive's "first year of blogging" retrospective.
The time has come to rummage through May's posts and see if anything worthwhile sticks to our furtively fumbling fingers.

Let's get the pretty stuff out of the way first. I posted this typical view from my neck of the woods to refute Mister Dickens' libellous assertion that Norfolk is … er … flat.

May also witnessed old Dive's spectacularly public car crash which provoked the biggest round of applause at that year's Knobworth Festival.

And Rich's relentless happiness sparked off an inevitable response, which neatly encapsulates "The Tao Of Dive":
Read and learn, my droogs.

"Let's just clear up a few things here:
Numero uno: Life sucks.
It sucks huge hairy arse.
A positive mental attitude just gets you shat on.
Every fucker is out to get you.
Helping others just makes you look like a pervert.
Every cloud is a fucking cloud.
Smiling makes you look creepy.
You really do look fat in that.
And ugly.
All the work you do simply enriches other people.
See? They are laughing at you.
Life is a big fat box of fucking misery.
And don't you forget it."

Some mornings I'm just little Mister Sunshine. I feel so damned perky I can light up the world with my happy smiles.

And a month with Dive simply couldn't go by without me taking the piss out of some poor religious group.
In May, it was this, followed by this and this.

May also saw the birth of Blogville (thanks to Maria), Willy Wonka's French Whore and Peter Gabriel taking the stage with my piss on his hands and his boots.

You lot were your normal sweet and delectable selves.
Here are some of your out-of-context comments from May's postbag:

Robyn:
"NO there is never an appropriate time to use "party" as a verb."
"The thought of anything being beaten with bagpipes is so ridiculously funny."

Kate:
"I was taught by a Mrs Dickman and a Mr Cox in the same year."
""Foetid pismire" even more inspirational than clusterfuck."
"I got my revenge, I made shrinkies out of her Evie records."
"Refreshingly fuckety."
"Disco is definitely not dead!"
"Pretty and witty and bi"
"I'm sitting here in a towel with hunks of foil in my hair pretty much impersonating sputnik."
"Fuckity fuck! Oh Yeah!"

Lynn:
"I would bend over for the spanking but yes you're right, it'd be far too enjoyable."
"He makes me want to give money to an animal sanctuary."

Dear Prudence:
"Dive, I forgive you for being a blind to the truth, pinhole informed Marxist."
"You NEED TO BE MOIST!"
"Mr. Ranty Pants! Oh how we love you!"
"We had a Congressman here and his name is (I swear) Dick Sweat!"
"Titties and beer!"

Vic:
"I saw this guy a couple of years ago - he's about 87 yrs now and he was on stage at a local park singing a very pathetic song with tight pants and looking like he had a codpiece or a penile implant."
"Good finger vibrato."

Mme. Benaut:
"My neurosurgeon's name was Mrs. Deadman!"

Maria:
"I think it is all that talk about ironing. It just sends me."
"Feeling very moist and beery today."
"I have these two joints in the box on top of my dresser."
"Let's see...in 1978, I was a sophomore in college and the biggest thing I did was to get stoned and go see Bob Dylan with my lover."
"Prosthetic genitalia...it just sort of floats right off the tongue, doesn't it?"
"Shit...I KNEW I looked fat in that. God damn it!"
"Bollocks, you ninnies."

Sassy:
"I'll leave the whole "moist" thing alone."
"Wow. He was young once. How strange."
"Sigh... Sonny Chiba."
"The Mafia are in cahoots with the US Postal Service."
"That warms the cockles of my heart."

Terroni:
"Party, party, party, paaarty!"

The Lovely Betty:
"I've got an uncle who's a Mr Goodhead."

Rich:
"White Punks on Dope!"
"I always try and invite these women in for coffee."

Old Knudsen:
"Does this dancing make me look like a fruit?"
"See you in hell commie boy."

Peahen:
"You're as happy as a dog and you've got two cocks?"

My favourite comment that month has to be Kate's simple and elegant "Fuckity Fuck! Oh Yeah!"; a splendid sentiment if ever there was one.
I feel a teeshirt coming on …