"Don't Panic!" Said Corporal Adams

That's Conrad For You, Mixing Characters
In this case I am actually referring to myself, as I usually bother the internet rather earlier in the afternoon on a Saturday.  Thus the "Don't Panic!" goes out to all of you* suffering from a lack of whimsy, bad puns, birds talking in English and worries about all the military intelligence agencies of Europe camping outside the Mansion with mischeivous intent.
     "Phew!" I can hear you saying in relief.  "So the NSA, GSG, GROM, UNIT and OVRA haven't had you in an interrogation cell all day long.  We are so relieved!"

Really?  You don't look distraught at all.  Not one bit.

     The truth is only slightly less unpleasant.  Your toiling scribe was doing overtime in The Electric Goldfish Bowl all morning and into the afternoon, after which he then had to call in at Fopp! - this is not a choice it is a basic necessity as enshrined in the UN Human Rights Charter - and of course Church Street Books, before reluctantly giving Northern Soul Grilled Cheese Sandwiches a miss.  There had been meals going free at TEGB, which Conrad had dined upon, and it was getting into late afternoon by the time I wafted my carcass past Northern Soul.  Maybe next week.

Not distra - I SAID YOU'RE  - are you paying me any attention at all?

     So - here we are, rather late for a Saturday but extra-specially early for a weekday.
     The "Don't Panic!" is of course from DAD'S ARMY and most certainly not that Johhny-come-lately "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy", although since DAD'S ARMY is a British institution I bet Douglas Adams had seen it and was inspired by it took it as an homage stole it as a result.  We shall have more to say about DAD'S ARMY later.  O yes indeed!

What A Remarkable Coincidence!
Isn't it strange.  I leave the door to the Upstairs Lair ajar, and Edna is nowhere to be seen.  Out of sight, out of mind.  No sooner do I rustle the wrapper of a Sesame Snap (hand-made by skilled tradesmen in Poland) than -

     Hay Pesto!  She appears again.  I suspect I could rustle the wrapper off a packet of razor blades and she'd still put in an appearance.  Just to see what's going on in the world, of course, nothing more than that.

Conrad: The Spectre At The Feast
Oooh, get me, being all Shakespearean and all.  What I mean is that I've booked to go attend a musical event on March 7th, put on by workmate Ian, who has now left work. 

Toby the musician.
Conrad not sure about the beard.  Grown for warmth?

 I have no choice this time.  The poor chap arranged a gig in summer, for free, in the middle of Manchester on a Sunday afternoon by a visiting Icelandic musician and - I didn't go  :(  In my defence I put it to the court that I'd not bothered to find out where or when the gig was before my computer rolled over and died from a computer virus.  By the time I got it back to nursery-level intellect the gig was gone.
     So!  This time I have booked in advance.
     Let me go even further and add a link to the Facebook Event page -

https://www.facebook.com/events/1395917417382695/

     You are quite welcome to attend, as long as you are well-behaved and do not ricochet around the room in a manner akin to a pinball, claiming it to be "dancing".  This is because I will be the oldest person in the room and any over-exertion is liable to kill me dead, me being decrepit and all.

Konrad's Kidneys

To my mind this lot look a bit - sinister.  

Since I got a lift into Manchester in the Murdermobile this morning, I don't know and care less about those squeaky, cheeky, beaky little freaks the local birds and whether they were being as disgustingly cheerful as usual.
     Instead we have more of my internal organs holding forrth!  You should be used to this by now, after Brain, Liver and Stomach**.  I say, chaps, care to comment?

SINISTER: That ought to be "Kare to Komment" -

DEXTER:  - for hilarious comic effect.  

S:  We're SpongeGob's kidneys and we -

D:  - have the annoying habit of finishing -

S: - off each other's sentences.  Twins -

D:  - you see.  There has to be two of us -

S:  - to cope with Fat - o! I beg your pardon - SpongeGob's drinking.  Even when sober -

D:  - good Lord does he drink.  Tea, coffee, Marmite -

S:  - lemonade, water, Aloe Vera.  Good job as kidney's we're not venal -

D:  - although we are renal.  That's Greek for "kidney"

S: - which we said already.  Or did we?

     I'm Kalling the Kurtain down on our Komic Kouple, that's Kwite Kenough***.

2000 AD's Kid Knee.  Frankly, far more entertaining than Conrad's blathering internal organs.

* Yes I mean both of you!
** Sounds like a recipe for haggis.
*** THe "K" in "Kenough" is silent.