Some titchy, but pithy items…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s existential angst is centred around the sound of the word corollary.

Excuses  for being late. No. 247.
I’m sorry I’m late, but I became engrossed in sharpening my quills.

A single overheard remark:
‘I’ll be about fifteen moments, no no, about fifteen minutes…’

Watching the antics of the political parties on TV during the run up to the general election here in the UK, I’m coming to the conclusion that we are really still in the medieval period. The bankers and the right-wing people are the Normans, and the left-wing people are the downtrodden Anglo-Saxon serfs. Oh, and of course there are those Celtic folk up north, the Picts and the Scots. I think I’d better get my longbow out and whittle a few arrows…

A spiral-bound notebook conversation in the cafe:
‘I see that you have a spiral-bound notebook…’
‘Yes, I have…’
‘I have one too.’
‘Oh yes, so you have…’
‘Does your pen slide nicely into your spiral for storage?’
‘Yes, it does.’
‘It’s a useful feature isn’t it?’
‘Yes, it is…’
‘Of course, it’s not really a spiral you know.’
‘Is it not?’
‘No, it’s a helix.’
‘Is it?’
‘Well well well…’

I walked into town yesterday. As I passed a tall block of flats a skinny youth emerged from the shadows shouting, ‘Hey!…’ at me and tapping two fingers across his mouth.
‘Eh?…’ I shouted back.
He did the two finger lip-tapping thing again for a moment, and then shouted, ‘Wanna buy a bit of smoke, a bit of weed?…’
‘Ah…’ I said, ‘No thanks…’
He looked very disappointed and went back into the shadows…

A single overheard (possibly misheard) remark:
‘It’s my shoulders, I’m carrying Berlin…

I’m thinking of changing my name to Ken Tucky-Chickin.

Oh, what’s this? An item of spam in my comments box; it seems to be from someone called Gameopt;
‘Hi Dear, are you genuinelyy visiting this internet
site on a regular basis, if so subsequently you testament without question exact pleasant experience.’
Well, thank you Gameopt, it’s very nice to hear from you; I shall certainly bear in mind what you have said.

The BBC TV weatherman:
‘The absence of meaningful sunshine…’

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, conversation, cool, dreaming, Dulltown, existentialism, history, Hull.UK., humour, information, observations, seeing, serendipity, surrealism, TV and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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