"Newfangled". There's an old-fashioned expression.
Personal Blogs
Although fewer than 141 days remain to Xmas, most of the Elves are still on their hols.
However a young apprentice has recently joined and shows good promise. Here is her first joke. Please applaud a star in the making.
Q: If lions had feathers, why would that be restful?
A: Because it would be lion down.
I once had a postman named Alfred, who was really aggressive and testosterone-driven
He had this T-shirt made that said "Al for mail".
What kept you, Angel?
Angels I hear lot about.
But you may be the last I run up against.
The Big Sleep
Is The Best.
Snail
In winter, will you wrap up like me?
What answer did I expect?
"Alas poor Yorick, I knew him well", said Tom gravely.
Diogenes
Had scabs all over his knees.
Some were clinical
That's what you get from living in a barrel and being cynical.
I met a doubting Angel in a late-night bar
Who said: "I do not question why (or even if) we are."
"But why should existence in itself exist?"
There was no answer I could give to this.
oh my heart oh my heart
the red forest fell in the autumn
the green shoots that rise in spring
are never you. oh never
Wisdom advised them to tune in.
Someone brought me this small Anglo-Saxon pot sherd and I've only just got around to photographing it.
You can see little roulettes, which look as they were embossed with a bone or wooden tool, and I think this form of decoration is characteristically Anglo-Saxon.
Adolph Hitler once launched a rickshaw service. It's almost forgotten today, but it was called "The Trike".
A poet's only trying to say
A memorable thought, but in a memorable way.
The mouse pointer it's,
More erratic than the fly,
Crawling over my screen.
Us poor bastards got locked up.
Which made the rich bastards breathe a little easier.
Since he can
Make you think it's a trick
When really it's magic.
This is a very free reworking of "O poeta é um fingidor", by Pessoa, but I hope a worthy one.
The remarkable Portuguese poet Pessoa wrote under fourscore and ten different personas. This is one he wrote as himself.
Mi Madre always used to say
"Change your shirt!" And I'd reply "Por que?"
"Because!" So each time I gave way.
Another qué, another collar.
Adolph Hitler was a keen cyclist but he had a thing about twos. When he bought his second bicycle, he insisted it was the third trike.
I knew this bloke whose job was flying highjacked aircraft, especially ones stuffed with Carribean treasure chests. He was an airline pirate.
"I'd rather chew my own arm off" he said. I was like, hmm, that's not exactly evidence-based.
"I didn't notice we'd be sleeping under canvas", said Tom inattentively.
I'm off on a booze cruise. It's organised by Pinot.
A friend has just launched a Bittern Sanctuary. He tells me business is booming.
Tonight walking home (we both were) I saw a hedgehog.
Once I saw these these little animals every night in summer but now they seem uncommon and I mourn.
Passing a grassy bank – I heard a familiar rustle. I froze; waited; and sure enough a hedgehog emerged; snuffled its way on a circuit (pausing to eat a morsel at one point); then scrambled back up the bank and away.
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