Some titchy, but pithy items…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s colours are: mauve, mauve, mauve, mauve, cherry red, mauve, mauve, and mauve.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Excuses for being late. No. 239.
I’m sorry I’m late, but I had to bury a twin-necked electric guitar that someone gave me.

Ah, what’s this? It’s an item of spam in my comments box. It’s from someone called ‘Search Savings Motels prices’.
‘Good day!! I know thius is kind of off topic but I wwas wondering which blog plattform are you using for this website?
I’m getting sick and tired of WordPress because I’ve haad issues with hackers and I’m looking at options for anothdr platform. I would be fantastic if you could poiht mee in the direction of a good platform.’
Well, thank you Search Savings Motel prices, I shall certainly bear in mind what you have said, and I do hope to hear from you again soon.

A single overheard remark.
‘It’s just very fun-fortunate that’s all…’

No, I’m sorry, but wearing smart polished black leather shoes with stone-washed blue jeans isn’t my idea of style – no matter how much they cost…

Having had a late night, I was hoping to have a bit of a lie-in this morning, but for some reason I woke up early. I switched the bedside radio on; there was a discussion about phenomenology on – that quickly got me off to sleep again…
(lie-in) (phenomenology)

‘Man you’re crazy!’
‘Manure crazy?…’
‘What?…’
(Of course this wouldn’t work in the USA where they pronounce manure [without the ‘y’ sound in the middle] as ‘man-oor’.)

An observation:
It was a windy day. As I was walking along I noticed an empty drinks can rolling and clattering down the street towards me. As I got closer to it it stopped dead and trembled for a second or two. I walked past within a foot or so of it. As soon as I got past it continued clattering along again. It was behaving like a small animal trying to avoid drawing attention to itself when a human was nearby…

Heard on the radio:
‘So, how did you react to this?’
‘Oh… tears!… joy!… amazing!… emotion! – there are no words for it…’

A single overheard remark:
‘I wish I’d probably seen his face…’

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...
This entry was posted in brain, colours, conversation, cool, dreaming, Dulltown, existentialism, fashion, Hull.UK., humour, information, mind, observations, radio, seeing, serendipity, style, surrealism, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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