Banging On

He turns up each month waving paper with words on insisting he’s a columnist. We think he might be lost.

A waste of space? Sure, but our errant columnist came in pretty handy when we wanted someone to look after the office hamster while we were on our holidays…

We tried to hide our errant columnist’s blatherings, but looks like you’ve found them anyway. This time he’s got an interesting theory he’d like to tell you about…

Our so-called “columnist” with a pile of words in some kind of order. His column feels like that day your parents moved house and didn’t think to mention it. Eh? Not happened to you? Just us then…

Pop it in the goal, mate. That was easily a hole in one, ref. He’s got a googly in the bunker. Sport! 

You’ve found him! Our so-called columnist has moved. He is now officially the sport pages of electronic music. New home, same level of delusion…

There would come a day, inevitably, when our so-called columnist would tip himself over the edge. That day has come, he has finally lost it and what broke him? Cattle. CATTLE!

When our so-called columnist gets ideas above his station, we hang him upside down in the stationery cupboard for a bit. We forgot we’d put him there this month. He went a bit odd, can you spot the difference?

We’ve spent this month hiding all manner of computers, pens and stone tablets, but somehow he still managed to cough up a column. Come to think of it, did he actually write this? Even we don’t know anymore…

Our so-called columnist walks an ever-decreasing fine line between having a job and, well, how to put this? not having a job. Here he wins our Annual first mention of Xmas competition, by some distance…