There - claiming my real hidden title, not often you get a 'tchkn' in a word, except, one imagines, those written by drunk Russians.
So my little jaunt across the Le Mange, or whatever it is these Frenchies call the Channel, is over. A journey, the Doctor reliably informs me, of 3 hours has taken considerably longer. It must have been some navigational mishap or pirates amidship, or something darker and more devious, but I will one day get to the bottom of my peculiar trip to France and my endurance testing return.
For some reason the Doctor has taken a new approach to my discipline and mentoring. Rather than the regular and vicious beatings that I am used to he has somewhat mellowed and is now using me for a footstool in his parlour. His slovely ways are also a boon for when he drops the super noodles as they pass between fork and lip I can easily gobble them up off the Axminster before he notices. My new position has enabled me to enjoy TV for the first time in months and I am relieved to see the return of the finest art of our time - Celebrity Big Brother.
Lacking only the addition of starving lions this is the Hutchknacks favourite broadcast. And this particular series throws up the most imaginative fantasies of sexual congress imaginable. Verne who is well known for his drunken urination feats on previous reality shows holds particular promise. It isn't clear whether he would ever appear on 'Bangamidget.com' as the midgets being banged all appear to be female, although at that scale it can be hard to tell.
This does lead to some interesting mulling over the relative size of things in the trouser department, and it all comes down, one imagines to whether the short person in question is a dwarf or a midget. For as we all know from 'The Office' (UK version) a midget is small in proportion, whereas a Dwarf is short with standard sized head, hand, feet etc. The devil being in the etc. of course.
But let it not be said that the Hutchknack, deformed as he is in mind and body, fixates on those who are physically marginal, the biggest freakery on show was no doubt LaToya's casual referencing of her Mafia connected ex-husband's wife beating antics. She like Jermaine before her and of course the Michael betray very few signs of being human at all. One can barely imagine the fatherly conduct that created such a brood of space elves.
I am particularly enjoying the clodhopping courtship of the ethereal LaToya by the Celestial Gangster Coolio, a man for whom the words, "Shut up, fuck off and die" are interpreted by his brain as a call of "Encore, Maestro!"