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Where are you Big Blogger?
UPDATE: I am so not a pro at this. Deadline for Task 6 is midnight Friday. At ease.
Wanted - One very lost Big Blogger. He's only small, for a Big Blogger, and quite often gets lost in the park, or accosted by marauding old ladies with those wheelie tartan bag things that they put all their shopping in even though they could quite easily use a trolley or basket and it would be really easy to nick loads of stuff which is probably what they are doing so actually they're obviously criminal geniuses, and he's got a gammy leg, which if it's gotten infected could mean curtains for our hero!
If anyone has seen him please let me know. I'm worrying my knickers off.
There are also some other things happening, as I'm sure you'll have noticed. If you were paying attention. And reading all the writing on here. And thinking about it after you'd read it, for at least a couple of seconds. We deserve that much at least!
Thanks to the wonderful Mike for collating all the blogmates' activities into a handy piecemeal sized chunk. We would have got round to doing it eventually...honest. I personally think that you, Mike, should be known forthwith as Davina-Mike, in un homage to the crow-faced Big Brother presenter we all know and love. I'm sure that you could whip a crowd into a frenzy just like her, and could possibly coax a lapdance out of JonnyB while you're at it.
Of slightly more importance is the fact that we've jettisoned another two housemates. So long Dr Rob (at bloody last), Vicus Scurra, and Gordon. Your Cillit Bang and Irn Bru fixations will be missed even if you won't. If you could please come to the Diary Room after you've recovered from this ordeal and dragged your filthy carcasses from the pit of despair which I know you're all currently residing in, and/or returned from your all-expenses-paid holidays courtesy of the Daily Record and let me know how unworthy you all are, it would be appreciated enormously.
We've also gained a new 'asset' in the form of one Bob Gandalf. He seems to have gotten stuck in the Diary Room, so if anyone fancies keeping a hairy Irish bastard company on this of all weekends, be my guest.
Which brings me not even vaguely awkwardly onto your new mini-task thing, which isn't really that mini at all.
We'll call it Task 6, because that's what it is.
Because we're slap bang in the middle of festival season, and every Tom, Dick and Harry seems to be arranging their own festival of sorts in their back garden, Little Blogger (on behalf of Big Blogger wherever he may be) would like all the housemates to come up with their own festival. Give it a name, a worthy cause, a line up, a site, and an approximation of scale (the most unfeasible will surely win), and submit your efforts to the Big Blogger International Sensation Festival Approval Board - BBISFAB for short - for perusal. It'll be a bit like the judging for the Chelsea Flower Show, except without Titchmarsh.
The winning entry will actually wind up being organised (Shock!) and held in the Big Blogger gardens. Which means you all get to have a party! Aren't we nice?
So please, let your imaginations run wild. And if you want to have luxury toilets on site, you have your luxury toilets on site. The world is your oyster.
And Vit, Little Blogger is waiting for his portrait. If I don't get it today I'm going to have to demand naked portraits of all the remaining housemates from you by the weekend, and you know you don't want to have to go through that torture.
Wanted - One very lost Big Blogger. He's only small, for a Big Blogger, and quite often gets lost in the park, or accosted by marauding old ladies with those wheelie tartan bag things that they put all their shopping in even though they could quite easily use a trolley or basket and it would be really easy to nick loads of stuff which is probably what they are doing so actually they're obviously criminal geniuses, and he's got a gammy leg, which if it's gotten infected could mean curtains for our hero!
If anyone has seen him please let me know. I'm worrying my knickers off.
There are also some other things happening, as I'm sure you'll have noticed. If you were paying attention. And reading all the writing on here. And thinking about it after you'd read it, for at least a couple of seconds. We deserve that much at least!
Thanks to the wonderful Mike for collating all the blogmates' activities into a handy piecemeal sized chunk. We would have got round to doing it eventually...honest. I personally think that you, Mike, should be known forthwith as Davina-Mike, in un homage to the crow-faced Big Brother presenter we all know and love. I'm sure that you could whip a crowd into a frenzy just like her, and could possibly coax a lapdance out of JonnyB while you're at it.
Of slightly more importance is the fact that we've jettisoned another two housemates. So long Dr Rob (at bloody last), Vicus Scurra, and Gordon. Your Cillit Bang and Irn Bru fixations will be missed even if you won't. If you could please come to the Diary Room after you've recovered from this ordeal and dragged your filthy carcasses from the pit of despair which I know you're all currently residing in, and/or returned from your all-expenses-paid holidays courtesy of the Daily Record and let me know how unworthy you all are, it would be appreciated enormously.
We've also gained a new 'asset' in the form of one Bob Gandalf. He seems to have gotten stuck in the Diary Room, so if anyone fancies keeping a hairy Irish bastard company on this of all weekends, be my guest.
Which brings me not even vaguely awkwardly onto your new mini-task thing, which isn't really that mini at all.
We'll call it Task 6, because that's what it is.
Because we're slap bang in the middle of festival season, and every Tom, Dick and Harry seems to be arranging their own festival of sorts in their back garden, Little Blogger (on behalf of Big Blogger wherever he may be) would like all the housemates to come up with their own festival. Give it a name, a worthy cause, a line up, a site, and an approximation of scale (the most unfeasible will surely win), and submit your efforts to the Big Blogger International Sensation Festival Approval Board - BBISFAB for short - for perusal. It'll be a bit like the judging for the Chelsea Flower Show, except without Titchmarsh.
The winning entry will actually wind up being organised (Shock!) and held in the Big Blogger gardens. Which means you all get to have a party! Aren't we nice?
So please, let your imaginations run wild. And if you want to have luxury toilets on site, you have your luxury toilets on site. The world is your oyster.
And Vit, Little Blogger is waiting for his portrait. If I don't get it today I'm going to have to demand naked portraits of all the remaining housemates from you by the weekend, and you know you don't want to have to go through that torture.
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