Some overheard and misheard snatches of cafe conversation…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s architectural term is ‘propylaeum’: the entrance gateway to a temple precinct. My temple used to have a propylaeum, but I had it removed – it had far too many vowels in it.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

‘Was that a demi-ha?’
‘Slur-a-dix!’
‘No, actually the 1980s perry good.’
‘It was Belgium and a hill peep.’
‘I’m thinking of leaving my gloves on…’
‘A punch in the head-wipe.’
‘That woofa-werry was so close.’
‘An A1 gay one?’
‘Nous, nous, nous…’
‘It’s a spiritual sponge Simon.’
‘Nuts in a day, ah…’
‘I’m done for line, weird line…’
‘Well, what is normal?’
‘A pissy weir?’
‘You’re being diculous Margaret!’
‘A normal golling…’
‘It was a spread-out notice then?’
‘Ickry-dickry and mollems?’
‘Frap goods dowel down.’
‘A full week of upset!’
‘Doris doors bikey woodburner.’
‘North ankyew!…’
‘Hey hey, eighteen-fifty!’
‘A fermented pulse?’
‘On the lemon grind again…’
‘Just tozzle another one…’
‘A walnut letter, no surprises then…’

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 architecture, brain, conversation, Dulltown, existentialism, history, Hull.UK., humour, information, mind, observations, poetry, serendipity, surrealism, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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