A few shortish items…

But first…
Dulltown, Europe: Today’s random dictionary words are: ignaro, scomfish, infaust, eisel, and varan. Please have these words looked up and placed in suitable sentences ready for Professor Mouldie first thing after breakfast tomorrow morning. Extra marks will be awarded to students with spotless handkerchiefs.

Excuses for being late. No. 268.
I’m sorry I’m late, but I was witness to some strange and unexplained aerial phenomena.

A single overheard remark:
‘It was a sanitary conundrum Peter…’

Some of my school teachers were idiots.
I remember when I was about 10 years old, one of them telling us that if you accidentally cut your tongue it would never ever heal up and you would eventually bleed to death. That piece of stupid information is still in my head after all these years!…

An observation:
Yesterday afternoon town was full of people who look like Frida Kahlo. (FK)

Oh look, what’s this in my comments box? Ah, it’s a piece of spam from someone who is apparently called how to grow taller:
‘{I have | I’ve} been {surfing | browsing} online more than {three | 3 | 2 | 4} hours today, yet I never found any interesting articles like yours.
{it’s | it is } pretty worth enough for me. {in my opinion | Personally | in my view}, if all {webmasters | site owners | website owners | web owners} and
bloggers made good content as you did, the {internet | net | web} will be {much more | a lot more} useful than ever before.’
Well, thank you how to grow taller, I will certainly bear in mind what you have said, and I do hope to hear from you again soon.

This morning I was standing looking out of my kitchen window at the dreary day; I had the radio tuned to the BBC classical music station, BBC Radio 3; it was playing Beethoven’s Eroica Symphony. Suddenly the sun burst through the clouds, and at that same moment I had the sudden realisation that good old Ludwig was just spinning out, and milking to death for a full 45 minutes, a couple of not very catchy tunes…

I dread getting old – I think my greatest fear is that I’ll wake up one morning and find that I have developed a liking for football, opera, motor racing, and golf.

‘You are really ept.’
‘Eh?… Inept?…’
‘No, no, ept – it’s a compliment you see…’
‘Hm… not sure about that…’

A single overheard remark:
‘Well, I would… but I don’t want to sit there with all that meat and fruit…’


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, Dulltown, existentialism, Grumpiness, Hull.UK., humour, information, learning, misheard, music, observations, overheard, school, seeing, serendipity, surrealism, words and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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