FANCY DRESS

 "Yes.  We understand that, Herbert.  And a chauffeur is a great costume.  Really great. Inventive. Imaginative. And the black glasses make you look really, really spooky."

"So"

"t's just that . . . well . . . we didn't expect you'd bring the car."

"Everyone else has."

"True. But their cars are to get them home afterwards.  Yours is part of your costume."

"I'll leave it on the drive.  Or what about the porch?  I could park it on the porch and just stand beside it. More authentic, a chauffeur with a car, holding the rear door open for Madam."

"But there are folk backed up behind you, Herbert.  Couldn't you have come in a taxi?"

"It's an Austin Princess! Ninety sixty one.  It wouldn't fit in a taxi."

"Herbert!  Just get it out of here."

"All right.  Keep your hair on.  Can I give you a lift somewhere?" 

Posted in response to Carrie's prompt showing a Classic British car and the owner's driver.

ADVICE FOR DUCKLINGS

 '

Now listen, you three . . .

If it looks like a Beatle and walks like a Beatle and sings like a Beatle

IT'S A BEATLE,  Geddit?

A response to Carrie's Sunday Muse #159

HEIGHTS

"This isn't Bronté country!!  I think I'm lost." 

"I can hear someone coming - Is that you, Heathcliffe?"

Posted in response to Carrie's picture for Sunday Muse #158 

JUST MY LUCK!

First day of Spring.  I think it's OK to stick my head above the parapet and say 'Hallo trees. Hallo sky' -     and what's the first thing I see?

A road-roller

Heading this way!

Post prompted by Carrie's picture for Sunday Muse #157

I'm Puzzled

Which of these gentlemen is the organ-grinder, and which the monkey?

The prompt at Sunday Muse #83 set me thinking . . .


'Be a good fellow, Watson, and pass me my magnifying glass.  Thank you. Now sit quite still.'

(Short silence during which Holmes examines Watson's face closely.)

'Well, Holmes?  What does the great detective see?'

'Surprising what the glass reveals, Watson.  Ever since Leeuwenhoek described beasties flailing around in the water we drink and so on . . . things have turned out to not be quite what they seem.'

'Never mind Leeuwenhoek, whoever he is . . . '

'Was, Watson, was.  He died in 1723.'

'Before my time, Holmes.  What d'you see?'

'A little bridge over a stream which could be made of tears? Hard to tell.  Lots of little fir trees, some of them sprouting from your eyebrows - which could do with pruning, BTW.'

'Really, Holmes.  Amazing what your glass reveals at several times magnification.  I thought they were  . . . '

'Wait a minute, Watson. The bridge over the stream  . . . there's a female figure standing on it.  Strange.'

'Not strange at all, Holmes.  That's the young lady dermatologist who's treating me for zits . . .'
'Zits! You don't need a dermatologist, Watson.  You need a tree surgeon . . .'

What's This? What 's This?

'Stop! . . . This is getting Very Silly' has been elected to the pantheon of Glasgow's Top 40 Blogs!  I was not aware that this was about to happen and know nothing of the process whereby it came about. It may well be an example of Someone Moving in a Mysterious Way His Wonders to Perform. It certainly is WONDERFUL!  You can see the other 39 blogs that have been awarded the accolade HERE.  The other 39 blogs all have thousands of facebook, twitter and instagram followers.  What on earth do all those people do all day?  Do they sit scrolling their screens or walk about banging into other people scrolling their screens?  It's a wonder our streets aren't littered with fallen followers who whacked into some other screen-scrolling follower a bit too hard.  Maybe I should join in - abandon my firm conviction that Social Media is an almost unmitigated Social Evil, a Waster of Time, a Destroyer of Young Lives and Attention Spans, a Planetary Polluter, a Prime Cause of Overweight and Carbon Dioxide and is in a fair way to becoming Death the Destroyer of Worlds.  And don't say I didn't warn you.

But what do I know?  I'm just a sad old git who doesn't understand the modern world.

Comments please!

A Peep Into the Future

           In the context of environmental degradation you commonly hear it said that -

                                               "There is no Planet B"

                     The Doom Merchants are wrong!  Of course there's a Planet B.

              Earthlings . . . Planet B is the wreckage of Planet A

Snack Time

I've been AWOL for a while folks, but back now and rarin' to go.  Here's a response to the picture prompt at The Sunday Muse #69, where you will find serious responses.

The Witch was tasty. Made a nice starter.  The Wardrobe Mistress hid herself in the Wardrobe. It was hard work getting her out. Fact is, I had to eat the Wardrobe first. It was pretty indigestible, but left me with a nice collection of toothpicks.  Wardrobe Mistress was appetising as the main course with some brown sauce.  But now I'm feeling a bit full, so needing a lie down. Probably sleep till teatime then scoff all the stuff they'd left on the table when I interrupted their lunch.

Euro 2016! A Festival of Football!

In celebration of the Beautiful Game, I offer my readers, friends and fans these pictorial comments without further comment . . .

 .     FOOTBALL!

REAL FOOTBALL!

FANTASY FOOTBALL!

EXTREME FOOTBALL!

The group matches are completed.  All four representatives of the British Isles have made it through to the knock-out rounds.  Now the fighting really starts . . .

Later.   Referees ignore potentially lethal fouls, but it seems that simple bad manners can earn players an early bath.  Read about it here.   Toot, Toot!