It’s Smurf Paranoia. Don’t feel so blue.

I spent a quite enthrawling lunch today sitting on a chair in the corner of the room eating what was allegedly a sandwich. I believe the lab results will prove otherwise and it will come back as an infestation of unknown substances who have an aim to take over the world one stomach at a time. Their cunning plan came in for a shock when they met my stomach!

Because I was lunching alone, I sat and watched. Yes people. I am that creepy dude in the corner who watches you all.

It wasn’t particulary busy there so I sat and watched and listened. Some people had noticed me in my little corner watching as they themselves are closet “watchers”. Others were looking a bit paranoid as they knew they were being watched.

According to the dictionary, if you search “paranoia”, you get:

1 – A psychotic disorder characterized by delusions of persecution with or without grandeur, often strenuously defended with apparent logic and reason.

2 – Extreme, irrational distrust of others.

3 – They really are watching you. Place a tinfoil hat on your head and sit in a lead box and don’t think about anything but fairies and how much the government works for you.

4 – Stop reading this and do No. 3. There is no time to lose.

I am assuming they tell you to think of fairies because the government are a bunch of them, and they are listening to your thoughts.

Apart from the usual “I hate my boss because my life is so unfair.” conversations and the “It’s Friday night. I am going to dress like coco the clown and see if I can pull” conversations, there was a phone call that caught my ear.

Although it is classed as rude to listen to someones conversations, if you are going to talk obnoxiously loudly and try to sound important, people are going to belittle you. On this occassion, the guy was speaking in a foreign language.

I have no idea what language he was speaking, but I have decided that he was talking about a crisis in smurf land (or something bad happening to Les Schtroumpfs). Half way through the conversation, the guy says “Hugga Boingie hugga Boingie”. What the hell does “Hugga Boingie” mean? And why say it twice in a row? What is going on in Smurfland that needs a phrase like that?

Papa Smurf was unavailable for comment when I emailed him, but I left a message saying help is on it’s way.

It’s a call to arms my friends. The smurfs need your SmurfHelp. Don’t Smurf them down.

You go first, I will cover your backs. My tummy doesn’t feel too good after that sandwich.