Some snatches of overheard and misheard cafe conversation…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s architectural term is ‘transenna’ – an openwork screen or lattice, usually of marble, in an Early Christian church.
I had a nice transenna, but I had it taken out – it needed far too much feather dusting to keep the muck and cobwebs off it.
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‘Next to a director’s box…’
‘Moron him!…’
‘Onnamundi?’
‘A free-fall lass and you’re out!’
‘A chord of Cyril?’
‘Straight down the tea chute.’
‘The telly-ticket.’
‘Hated! Hated!…’
‘I think to myself and you think to yourself…’
‘I just took against him…’
‘Cut his teeth on it and he took in Porrismore.’
‘He can’t be, a be, hopeful…’
‘Your girl cuddle team?’
‘Saint Petersburg emotion.’
‘A lesser collie…’
‘The team I love!… The team I love!…’
‘Called Chuck Barmby and Jerry Ego!’
‘A skid-fold and a good side!’
‘Say window call scouts?…’
‘Cucumbers – small, medium, and large.’
‘Thransport, a sticky job…’
‘…and he laughed so.’
‘Half a fence? I dread to think of it!’
‘Block paving is the worst.’
‘A good bit of aggression!’
‘I was gutted!’
‘Stick to the soft bits.’
‘I saw her in the flesh.’

About Dave Whatt

Grumpy old surrealist artist, musician, postcard maker, bluesman, theatre set designer, and debonair man-about-town. My favourite tools are the plectrum and the pencil...
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