Personal Blogs
Autumn again,
And the leaves fly past so quickly.
I can't grab a single one.
My new startup sells the "Easy Putt" golf ball. The money simply rolls in.
I do so admire, the youness of you.
One day some young ravens, hardly more than chicks, went to visit the Oldest Raaven Of Awe. Their parents told them it was their duty, and besides they might learn stuff and pass it on to the next generation (ect ect bore yawn whadever.)
"Oldest Raaven of Awe", asked the littlest of the young ravens (being small makes you pretend to be brave), "What is it like to be OLD?".
The oldest Raaven looked at the little raven kindly, and replied.
"I cannot see so well, nor hear. My feathers are shedding, and I can no longer fly without my mobility wings. My appetites have all nearly gone, and only one is left. That is the thirst for knowledge, and it rages as strongly as ever. So for me every day is a blessing."
"Be well, ravenlets, and remember we are the cleverest of all birds. Always celebrate that, and may you all live long!"
Moral: Not all old Ravens are grumpy.
My fan heater
Where I left it in Spring.
Too late to put it away.
On Trip Advisor reviews of a local garden centre I saw
They'd run out of the Fish & Chips. We had to make do with the Cornish pastor.
Suppose the Cornish pastor had run out too? Then it might have been the Welsh rabbi.
Free at last.
Who shall we attack?
Keen young Vicar to Local Inhabitant. "Did I see you reading an improving book on the moor today?"
Local Inhabitant. "Mebbe thesaurus. What on’t?"
I got a job as a film extra, playing a navvy in a film about road building in Victorian times. I asked what group to join, and the director said to take my pick.
"These scalpels are not good enough", Tom said bluntly.
Hello Autumn.
I always sleep better
Under a blanket.
Fake news. You can't believe everything you read about it.
I went to a clinic for those who don't do enthusiastic greetings. Long story, but they put me on a high fiver diet.
What do you need to get into pollen count school?
After Mrs. Hudson had cleared away the remains of our breakfast, my friend Sherlock Holmes and I settled down to our respective morning work.
Puffing away at my old and most familiar pipe, I worked steadily at my memoirs, through which I hope one day to bring before the Public the experiences of a medical man in army life. Meanwhile my silent companion cast his keen scrutiny over a mysterious document that had come by the first mail.
Suddenly my train of thought was derailed.
"What devilry has been at work?", he cried. "Some portion of this paper had been obscured by a white substance, and new writing has replaced the old. Only a scientific investigator such as myself would ever have noticed the change. What say you, Watson?"
I could not entirely banish an element of pride from my voice as I answered. Having only the previous day paid a visit to one of the shops operated by Messrs. W.H.Smith I had the advantage of my friend for once.
"It is, I believe, known as 'correction fluid'. What you see there's Snopake like Holmes", I replied.
I knew it then, but still went off to sea.
summer's like that poem
you loved back then
but never truly understood
Do not weep for your frail roses. come
Come away with us now.
To our crystallised world
Where flowers live for millennia. come
Where the pain will be slowed. come
Yesterday the Rev. Spooner was evicted from a tatami shop, for describing what they sold as "only rats and mice".
It's a tradition in our family that none of us eat coley on the last Monday in August. We call it "ban coley day".
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