Cling Wrap nostalgia

Back in 2003 I tried blogging for the first time on Blogspot. I found it bookmarked still on my work computer. I posted a whole four times, though a couple weren’t bad. One of the posts was:

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A fave site of mine: Cruel.com has featured some sites who write stories about wrapping celebs in cling wrap. I thought an Aussie version was needed:

The night was cool so far into the desert. The late hour added to the chill.
I had been walking along the dirt road for three hours now, but given the
time and distance my legs were not tired. The object of my walk was close,
and that made it alright.

The harsh glow of the halogen lights at the fence boundary shone out into
the desert darkness. At the point where the lights lost their ability to
penetrate, the much dimmer light of a gas lamp shone through the window of
the small but very clean shack. A small sign was mounted above the
reinforced metal door: Detention Centre Guest Quarters.

I knocked in a discreet but confident manner. A heard the shuffle of
slippers on linoleum, which happened to be my second favourite synthetic
material. The door opened, and there appeared Phillip Ruddock.

“Can I help you?” he enquired. I noticed his hair was slightly askew.

“Yes Mr Ruddock, you can. I am from the South Woomera Bureau of Meterology.
I have some bad news” I emphasised.

“What is the bad news?” he enquired in the overly animated fashion he is so
well known for.

“The worst sand storm since 1955 is coming this way, and we don’t have much
time. The only way we can survive is to prevent the sand from overwhelming
us” I continued emphatically.

Phillip Ruddock hitched up his pajama pants and looked at me sternly.

“This development concerns me. My clothes are being washed and ironed by the
holiday-makers in the camp. These pajamas are all I have” he said in
mellifluous tones.

“Don’t be concerned Sir, normal fabrics are easily broken down by the
corrosive nature of Woomera sand. We require something much better: cling
wrap. I happen to have a number of rolls here in my backpack” I calmly
explained.

Phillip Ruddock made a grimacing smile. “If that is what’s required, then I
am willing to do what is needed. Would you like me to wrap you first?” he
asked whilst loosening the tie on his pajama pants.

“Thank you, you are a true servant of the people Mr Ruddock” I said. Outside
I heard the wind start to roar, and I knew everything would be alright.

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Strange (and badly written). At least at the time it was in context of a Cruel.com thread