The shame of Mudpuddlin Dave

I thought it best to update the blog tonight as who knows what carnage will be visited upon it with Wednesday's Comprehensive Buggaring About With Us Review? I might find there are 33% cutbacks in my lucidity and humour, and that simply won't do. Come the revolution, Mudpuddlin will be a 24/7 exercise, the Pravda of the East (of England) However, I digress. I thought tonight I would give some thought to those times in my life I have been ashamed of my actions, and yes, there have been many, and look to set the record straight, or at least give you a good chuckle at some of my recurring and all-too-frequent misadventures.

First, I must address the issue of intellectual copyright theft. The business of my 14 hear old self, one DMTronics, was a cheap rip off of my good friend Simon's Simclair and indeed, the only programme it created, Ronnie Rat, was Simclair's Sam's Scrapyard with a slightly altered UDG for the main character. This is not news to the boards of either DMTronics (me) or Simclair (Simon) however it seems an appropriate time to publically fess up.

To the good burghars of South Stoneham House in Southampton I can say only this - you managed to have me with you for the three years of my life which I chose to indluge in rampant alcohol abuse. I remain grateful for the sumptuous breakfasts prepared solely to bring me out of another hangover and to my beloved bar, sadly long since bankrupted, for putting up with night after night of buffoonery. As to my shame, let's settle upon being found asleep outside my room on the floor by the cleaner having been unable to complete the tricky key/lock interface in my stupour. Shame, but not a little dose of legend.

I'd also like to mention here that not all shame is through appalling behaviour. For example, my first employers had a dumbwaiter style delivery system for post over the different floors. Now the room containing it on my floor had a loose cover and underneath were some fierce looking metal components. A long running debate in the office was whether this was safe, or indeed we risked electrocution whilst awaiting the repair (which arrived several months later). Now, I am not one to let a debate rage on unanswered, so I found out via the 'touch with your finger' route. Yes, we risked electrocution.

There is so much more I could go into, but even I have limits to my candour. Pretending not to know where the condoms are to get out of hangover sex, being rescued on Millenium Eve by a giant mohican bearing punk having slid down Castle Mound on my backside. Pants down dancing on the table in the St Andrews Tavern, knocking myself out in Norwich Arts Centre by leaping into a beam. How about that, I guess there are no limits to my candour after all!

I am legend, it shames me.