Rumigations of Watson the Wotsitt , livre ebook

Troubador Publishing Ltd - Helen Claire

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61 pages

English

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Who? Wott? Wossatt? Wozziss? I would like to introduce you to Watson the Wotsitt. He's an incredibly talented double-bubble who writes rumigations that are furiously fun, memorably moving, and make you smile uncontrollably. If you just sit back and relax, Watson's unique and refreshing voice will lead you to your inner mojo! You will be able to dip into the depths and delights of doing nothing, and remember! Watson the Wotsitt is here to remind you that feeling sad is not only useless but also harmful. He's going to help you re-spiff your sparkle and fizz your buzz! Once Watson - and you - have got your inner marbles and your outer astrals into coordification and started rumigation reading, you will meet many colourful and creative characters such as Lynne Gwist, the trilingual secretary, Ray Sauce the jockey or Dick Shunnery, the idiomologist. Don't miss 'how to turn left in a boat', or how Dr. Cyril Ick helped Watson to find his lost 'D's truly my Julie ! Watson's rumigations not only flood the pages of this book but they also infiltrate your inner laughlines, tackling tickles in a such a riprolling way that you will soon be calling the curtains for more, more, more !

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Publié par	Troubador Publishing Ltd
Date de parution	24 avril 2019
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781838598938
Langue	English
Poids de l'ouvrage	2 Mo

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0250€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

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The Rumigations of Watson the Wotsitt
Helen Claire
Copyright © 2019 Helen Claire

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

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ISBN 9781838598938

Illustrations by the author

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.

Matador® is an imprint of Troubador Publishing Ltd

Contents
Prologue
Rumigation Number On e What is a Wotsitt?
Rumigation Number Two The second one (origins and ditties)
Rumigation Number Three The sweetest one
Rumigation Number Four The saddest one (you have been warned!)
Rumigation Number Five Chronic suppression
Rumigation Number Six The most delicious one
Rumigation Number Seven On marriage and matrimonification
Rumigation Number Eight My friend Ray Sauce, the jockey
Rumigation Number Nine Watson goes sailoring
Rumigation Number Ten A bit of fresh!
Rumigation Number Eleven About my best Boss
Rumigation Number Twelve The giggliest one
Rumigation Number Thirteen The prickliest one
Rumigation Number Fourteen The most hysterical – no, historical – one
Rumigation Number Fifteen About poittree!
Rumigation Number Sixteen The warmest and woolliest one
Rumigation Number Seventeen On how to boogle-woogle
Rumigation Number Eighteen The day Watson lost his Ds
Rumigation Number Nineteen The dottiest one
Rumigation Number Two-Oh On abbreviations
Rumigation Number Two-One Zee French one
Rumigation Number Two-Two On the joys of lingo and smelling pistakes
Rumigation Number Two-Three The most dramatic one!
Rumigation Number Two-Four The Woods – Act Two
Rumigation Number Two-Five Dedificated to Doctor Ick (Cyril)
Rumigation Number Two-Six A bit about Wilson Wotsitt and Don Wimble
Rumigation Number Two-Seven Happy Hat Day!
Rumigation Number Two-Eight The most relaxing one
Rumigation Number Two-Nine About inner and outer astrals
Rumigation Number Three-Oh The dreamiest one
Rumigation Number Three-One The Inspirigatory Honey Ball Meditation
Rumigation Number Three-Two Feng shwee
Rumigation Number Three-Three More Wotsitt word-weaving
Rumigation Number Three-Four The most eggs-traordinary one
Rumigation Number Three-Five The most colourful one
Rumigation Number Three-Six On hurtifying mortification
Epilogue
Mojo overflow
The Perfect Wotsitt Text Translator
Prologue
(to be spread out loud and clear in capital letters on hot uncluttered toast while drinking your morning chop of tree)
Oh, hear you me, and gather you all totally together, darlings, for this is a one, only and everso uniquesome prologue never to be repitten. Yes, dear friends, crowbars, crumpets and countrymen, lend me your very ears and I will fill them utterly up with hearsome genius, inspirigation, and also some jolly giggleworthy stuff. Just give me a moment to get my two marvellous marbles into coordification, my terrifically ticklesome toes into their proper place and at least part of my voluminibus tummy in a comfortable shape, and… here it comes!

First.
Let’s get this straight. Unbent. Arrowhead.
This is NOT yet a blog. It is NOT a Twitter.
Neither is it a twig, a glob or a fritter.

For as you may very well not know, my probably unfeathered friends, a Wotsitt is a unique and totally Twitterless phenomenon. The sort of phenomenon you might only find on jaded days like today when you have run out of milk and forgotten to order the Uber. But feel frail not! Watson is on his way! Your way! This way! He’s going to mirthfully and mightily make your moment!

Wott? Wassupp? Yes, yes, I can hear spots of your glorious grey matter pinging in that vacuum, that heady space behind your eyebrows, just before a question mark appears, dangling, hovering on the fuzzy horizon of your muddled mind. Well… you are wondering… what CAN this awesomely unique thing that Watson is going to do BE?

My dearest and most beloved ear-bearers, I, yours very truly and very squidgably tub-tummied Watson Wotsitt, can, do, and very imminently will, rumigate. Which means, I create rumigations. It’s what I’m here for. I write reams of high-frequency rumigatory wisdom. Pages of patiently inspirigated prose. Not only that, in fact, for I can also twiddle (my very manysome toes), blow bubblekisses or even shuffle (cards, toes (always busy, my toes), gherkins or whatever pickles your fancy). But right now this missive is sweetly, solely, merrily and madly, dedicated to rumigations.

And the one that follows, the very first of a historical menu, was freshly picked for you this morning from a tasty plateful of perfectly jolly, terrifically ticklesome rumigations. From me. By me. With lotsalove from me. Yours blobbily, Watson the Wotsitt.

Rumigation Number One What is a Wotsitt?
Here we go. Let’s start with starters. What is a Wotsitt?

I can see you sitting there, you lovely glassy-eyed lot, with more question marks quivering, droning above your heads. Oh, hailsome hearers, I love you so much, because your grey matter (and probably a few marbles as well) is whingeing and whining in distress and you are still wondering…

What is a Wotsitt? Who is Watson? Why do I, you and both of us… after just one page… somehow feel sure you are going to adore these rip-rolling rumigations of mine… sense that they are going to sizzle and seize, pop and please you? Know that you are going to feel a ping-pang for more? More of my words, more of my whymes, more of my lotsaloving Wotsitt weason?

Well… a Wotsitt is… sort of, like a sweet irresistible rumbling in the back of your mind that reminds you of summer holidays, hot baths and singing at football matches. He’s an earful of heart and an eyeful of rolypoly and he is just a teeny bit of happy help along the daily path of pits and stops that we find ourselves on. He is a hopeless speller but a wizard with words. You can’t help but flip, flop, and fall in love with him.

If you want a Wotsitt autoportrait, just imagine a figure of eight on a floppy plate, turned upside down, bouncing back after being squashed by a sumo and steeped in smileys. That, in a bombshell, is it. If you like, you can forget the squidgy tummy and the trillion toes, the four twinkling eyes and the woolly love-and-star-struck scarf. A Wotsitt is quite simply, a beautifully and organically inspirigated double-bubble… and my name is Watson, yours very authentically…

It must be specificated that Wotsitts cannot concentrate for too long, neither can they count to more than nineteen, which means they often have to call a friend to get their commons denominated, their roots rightly squared, or their logas re-rythmned… but that’s not a problem because they have totally trundles full of friends!! As you are going to find out…

But honestly, if you haven’t got time to circumnavigerate all the explanations about the wherefroms and the whyfors and the origins of Wotsitts, I do understand. Nowadays we all have so many bots and bibs, so many thingummyjiggets, so many toms, dicks and takeaways that we truly cannot take another bit of wott in, can we? Let alone a Wotsitt. Shame though. Because, if you only let me illuminate your shady inner arbours with my bestful literary intent, you would feel everso invigorated and super-smiley. Then the next time you see a question mark hovering around above your marbles, humming something like… Wossatt? Who is ziss? Watson the Wott? You will fall flummergastingly over your only ten toes and find it’s quite simply ME! Right here! Right now! Try me! Touch me! Tickle me! Twiddle me!

And when you twiddle hard, I write lovely limericks too…

There once was a Wotsitt named Watson,
Whose talent was worth an ovation.
In the shape of a joke,
All the words that he spoke
Created
A downright sensation!

And if you’re still listening, well, fizz my buzz, that’s totally tremendous…
Rumigation Number Two The second one (origins and ditties)
Hear ye ho, my jolly hearties!
Ho ye here, my ever-waiting-to-be-wonderstruck audiophilers!
You are about to wake up to a worldsplattering Wotsitt earWash! Spread thick and fast on your tympani… with lotsalove…
Now, this early-birdy rumigation feels as though it ought to be dedificated to my friends and fellow Wotsitts, Twositts, Sittwots, Wassupps and other faintly related Ostwitts and… most belatedly… to dinosceri (for which, my already distinctly-feeling-fizzbuzzier-and-better readers, you must hip, shop and scuffle to Rumigation Number Four for explification about Delia the Dinosceros).
And also… be