You have invited your ill-mannered, spoilt, ignorant, brain-dead younger son and his ‘B’ grade actress wife and yet you have the temerity to snub your ex-sister-in-law by omitting her from the guest list.
You are not half the man that your mother was; you are a disgrace, Sir!
Coronation? You should abdicate immediately before you are abolished and sent to join Harry in The Tower.
O tempora, O mores . . .
I wear sloppy Joes’. Only one at a time, of course. Nothing wrong with them.
Life is imitating art. In the name of my Auntie Mimeses, this is a ring cycle and a half. Zzzz.
What’s strine for that, Bearsy? Not 666 think double 6. .I’ll bet. Just like lawn bowling, the north of UK would be world champions at being non-chappers.
It was more a case of save your money for God’s sake than art for arts sake that I suggested to my good friend, Chibber, we explore an art gallery rather than paint the town red, white and blue in a drinking establishment. This was, of course, pre-covid days.
At first hesitant by my complicated and sophisticated reasoning, rolling my Rs and elongating my Es, I could see my brainwashing was working and he agreed to enter the Chamber of Magical Dreams. Think he thought he was going to Disneyland.
Continue reading “Chibber at the Art Gallery”
Not being much of a political animal I steer clear of the circus that is British politics. However, a comment by the current PM, Boris Johnson, comparing Jeremy Corbyn with Stalin made me pause for thought.
Labour propose to introduce a 4 day working week in the next ten years. All good and well but are they imitatating one of the Soviet Dictator’s doctrines.
In 1929 Stalin had a calendar moment and eradicated Saturdays and Sundays from a normal week. And then there were five, as it were. Workers worked four days a week on different rotas and got one day off. That’s one way to boost productivity.
Labour aren’t saying but does this mean, in the near future we must proclaim…
Saturdays no more.
Sundays no more.
Don’t ya just love those old superstitions. A favourite of mine was my gran used to tell me to eat the crust of bread. This would make my hair curly…
Come on, who amongst us would not want curly locks? Like a big girl I twirl my locks from time to time. Even though, sad to say, those locks aren’t as colourful as they used to be.
Huh?
Well, not the Chariot precisely, but the conveyance used by our Boadicea to travel from place to place. We’ve put our ICE-powered companion out to grass- she was getting a little frail and battered around the edges – and purchased a bright-eyed, lecky-driven, millennium replacement.
Well, not quite, but the warrants have been signed, the executioner booked and the changeover set for the end of the month. Our extended test drive convinced us both that the future is already here, even for a pair of seniors like us.
Once we have our new chariot we’ll bore you with the details of our experiences, no doubt. 😎
EV = Electric Vehicle.
ICE = Internal Combustion Engine (petrol/gas or diesel)
Spectacular is the adjective commonly used for pyrotechnic displays. Bugbear number 3 for me. Fawkes sake, one light show is the same as the other.
Happy New Year. Let there be light.
Lost a fiver today.
It’s alright, don’t feel sorry for me. It was my own fault. Fell out my pocket. Not got a Clouseau where it went. Like Cato the Younger I took this hit with a resigned Hardy look at the fourth wall and remembered the famous Roman quote by Marcus Porcius Cato Uticensis “What’s for you will never go by you.” Though I’m sure it was originally in Latin,
Quid Leatherus testamus numquam Cheerioyou.
Boadicea's Chariot 
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