Task 3 - Give me the music...
Well Big Blogger thought that Task 2 went
Anyway, Big Blogger is back. Yes. Back from self imposed ostracision.
What? You haven't missed me? You didn't realise Big Blogger had gone?
Big Blogger had a thought, he thought that if you lot had to be couped up in there on your own then he should at least do the decent thing and experience the trauma, fear, self loathing and heartbreak as you do. The same sort of thing as those daft blokes who go around wearing some sort of bulge so that they can be sympathetic to their pregnant wives.
Yes, that's right. Big Blogger has been wearing the false pregnant rubber bulge of couped-up-ness.
And don't think Big Blogger hasn't noticed that Quickos is hanging about either, while he has been suffering on his own watching TV and eating junk food with a few tinnies.
So what did Big Blogger notice whilst doing this experiment?
Well, he noticed it was a little quiet for a start off. He had to bang on the walls for a while to get the neighbours to shout at him for a bit of company. There was no noise at all other than that - and the 'rat-a-tat-tat' of the pizza delivery man on the front door. And a random voice in the distance every now and again telling his dog to "Ssshurrrrup". It was very quiet and eerie other than that.
So what can we do to perk up Big Blogger? Well other than the obvious - and Big Blogger guesses that a few cases of cillet bang might ease that path.
We need song, music, the lights, etc.
So this is your next task pop pickers.
Please compose a poem, limerick or any other rhyming prose of your choice. It must be at least 3 verses long and start with the words:
Big Blogger is....
This task must be completed by midnight on Sunday. Then get your best glad rags on - because it's eviction Monday morning.