tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75299032024-03-08T22:31:57.101+11:00Will Type For FoodTimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.comBlogger3325125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-54123709916035371522024-02-14T22:51:00.005+11:002024-02-14T22:51:36.131+11:00Sign up to my marriage counselling service, everyone!<div>Get in early: sign a prenuptial disagreement before marriage so you don't have to worry about it after. </div><div><br /></div><div>Arrange for a divorce to be held before you get married. It is a far neater way of doing things. Hold a touching ceremony for the whole family you will be breaking up: nobody will be able to stop themselves from crying at the traditional ceremony of the Taking Back of the Engagement Rings - but who will be able to wake for the excitement that is the Cutting of the Financial Cake? </div><div><br /></div><div>(Oh yeah, and hold a wedding and stuff after too, I guess.)</div><div><br /></div><div>If you prepare and do things right, it will only strengthen your marriage bonds. Although you might end up having make-up sex without having anything to make-up about, which is a bit too S and M for some... I guess. </div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-79925110998935912762023-12-31T18:53:00.002+11:002023-12-31T18:53:38.965+11:00An unoriginal festive poem<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">There’s not much that’s new about Christmas;</div><div style="text-align: center;">There’s plenty of not new to tell:</div><div style="text-align: center;">But I’m growing quite fond of old things - </div><div style="text-align: center;">I’m growing quite old as well. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">There’s not much that’s new about New Year;</div><div style="text-align: center;">It’s already old when it’s new;</div><div style="text-align: center;">But I don’t mind that, after all</div><div style="text-align: center;">They say I was too.</div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-34521103970739326852023-12-23T22:26:00.005+11:002023-12-23T22:26:48.146+11:00Looking Awkward to Christmas<p><u>A Christmas Poem in Seven Ers</u></p><div style="text-align: left;">Er…</div><div style="text-align: left;">Twas the night before morning</div><div style="text-align: left;">And all through the place</div><div style="text-align: left;">Was the presence of regular </div><div style="text-align: left;">Geometrical space.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Er…</div><div style="text-align: left;">Twas the night before morning </div><div style="text-align: left;">And all through the… locality</div><div style="text-align: left;">Were spots with a definite </div><div style="text-align: left;">Geometricallity. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Er…</div><div style="text-align: left;">Twas the night before morning - </div><div style="text-align: left;">12.09, if you prefer. </div><div style="text-align: left;">Not a creature was stirring</div><div style="text-align: left;">Except those that were.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Er…</div><div style="text-align: left;">Twas the night before morning, </div><div style="text-align: left;">And then probably day :</div><div style="text-align: left;">Time continued to hold its</div><div style="text-align: left;">Chronological sway. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Er…</div><div style="text-align: left;">It was night. And then morning. </div><div style="text-align: left;">And there was a spot. </div><div style="text-align: left;">It might have had creatures, </div><div style="text-align: left;">But then, it might not. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Er…</div><div style="text-align: left;">And then comes a man</div><div style="text-align: left;">With a bowlful of… jello?</div><div style="text-align: left;">(Or should it be egg nog?)</div><div style="text-align: left;">Red, green and yellow. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Er…</div><div style="text-align: left;">Whatever it is </div><div style="text-align: left;">Or whatever it might </div><div style="text-align: left;">Whatever is wrong </div><div style="text-align: left;">Or is maybe… not right,</div><div style="text-align: left;">To all, merry Christmas </div><div style="text-align: left;">(etc) and </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">GOOD NIGHT. </div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-54049980761730634282023-10-04T12:49:00.004+11:002023-10-04T12:49:39.815+11:00Here's a little number that I wrote last night that I want to share with you all<p style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"> 3.</span></p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-5504773614848815532023-09-30T20:08:00.003+10:002023-09-30T20:08:53.430+10:00A grand occasion! <p>For <a href="https://www.foxsports.com.au/afl/live-afl-grand-final-2023-collingwood-magpies-vs-brisbane-lions-live-scores-start-time-updates-stats-video-stream-result-news-blog/news-story/0069d5cf2b7764a05c85cf84c35f07d7">no reason at all,</a> a poem. </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The colours and shapes decided</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">They needed to sort out what’s what – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">If the blue could beat green in a blue, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">If rectangles were best, or the dots. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">So they found a municipal oval, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And prepared for a very grand day, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And sent out the word to each other<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">That now might be a particularly auspicious time to play. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">First up were the black and white zig zags, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Who bested the greeny-blue squares; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">But then came the fuchsia diamonds, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Who put stop to their little affair. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The pink polka dots beat the purple – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The game was a jolly good romp; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">While the match up of teal versus salmon<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Turned into a contre-temps. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">O! The crowd cried with eager excitement, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">With passion and fervour and rage<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">At the stripes, the houndstooth, the triangles, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The amber, the peach and the beige! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">But now, in this final of finals, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Which side would be best of the best? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Out came the shapes and the colours <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">For a truly terrific contest! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">First up were the lilac-cream squiggles – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The crowd roared with glee from the stand; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And then came the buttercup checkmarks – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">This final was grander than grand! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">But ah, what a jolly imbroglio – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">What more of this show need I say? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Though the squiggles played wonderfully well, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The buttercup checks won the day. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">What a perfectly spiffing occasion! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">They all gave a most rousing cheer, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And determined that, all things considered, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">They would meet up same time next year! <o:p></o:p></span></p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-7661209476869276012023-09-05T12:16:00.006+10:002023-09-05T22:13:18.868+10:00You can misquote me on that<blockquote style="border: medium; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><i><span>I never read a book before reviewing it; it prejudices a man so. - Sydney Smith.</span></i> </span></div><p></p></blockquote><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">News comes in <a href="https://www.theguardian.com/books/2023/sep/01/society-of-authors-calls-use-of-bad-reviews-for-book-blurbs-morally-questionable?CMP=fb_gu&utm_medium=Social&utm_source=Facebook&fbclid=IwAR0pa6pnHCF-4F-ayou0_nHNiP0eKEWeflczyWYR37bqCjIjStLystHUjak#Echobox=1693563962">via the Grauniad</a> that critics and author societies are disgruntled at the habit of publishers using part of their bad reviews in book blurbs. Now, this is an issue that I am torn about, because on the one hand, I think bad reviews should be quoted loudly and proudly on the back covers of books, I love bad reviews and think they should be encouraged, and if a critic really takes the time and deliberation to eviscerate your book publicly, you know it’s something they really care about, the critic that sneers is the critic that cares. And, on the other hand, critics should really embrace this practice of publishers by writing finely-calibrated reviews full of sarcastic praise, and, after all, being quoted by mercenary publishers is a kind of compliment for their hard work and experience. So I suppose I’m not torn on this issue at all, I’m in fierce agreement with myself, if I were any fiercer in my self-agreement, I would be agreeably tearing myself to shreds. But you know what I mean.</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGZhNTbw_14jHW8GlWBVGY013QnvZThLX6g64XzFclC6qX7oxa1EY6Qk9Fw0NCGRyGl9E2G9u1LEHlVS0be_rOoAE6IdykZRmcETl2EAIbagEISAj_qQz2LtQXyBVN_STwb3wTAFNNSCbumCsvfjHEdrDsXD_mURuR5WegG9FDoyJOoLgQLVa/s1200/Samuel_Johnson_by_Joshua_Reynolds_2.0.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="800" data-original-width="1200" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRGZhNTbw_14jHW8GlWBVGY013QnvZThLX6g64XzFclC6qX7oxa1EY6Qk9Fw0NCGRyGl9E2G9u1LEHlVS0be_rOoAE6IdykZRmcETl2EAIbagEISAj_qQz2LtQXyBVN_STwb3wTAFNNSCbumCsvfjHEdrDsXD_mURuR5WegG9FDoyJOoLgQLVa/s320/Samuel_Johnson_by_Joshua_Reynolds_2.0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span>FIG 1: The good Dr Samuel Johnson has nothing in particular to do with this article. He was just awesome. </span></i></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">There’s nothing like a good-bad review, they’re an art all on their own: not always a very nice art, but an art nonetheless. Australian composer Peter Sculthorpe <a href="https://willtypeforfood.blogspot.com/2014/08/a-few-memories-of-peter-sculthorpe.html">claimed to be a collector of bad reviews</a>, and, expounding on this concept, would often quote a bad review given to another composer – ‘This is a piece that gives A major a bad name’ – and proclaim, ‘I would love to have a review like that written about a piece of mine!’ Reviewer <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Wilson_Croker">John Wilson Croker</a> supposedly wrote the <a href="https://lordbyron.org/doc.php?choose=JoCroke.1818.Keats.xml">review that killed John Keats</a>, which is unfortunate; even more unfortunate, then, that the review is hugely funny. (However, it wasn’t actually the review that killed off Keats: it was tuberculosis, a disease not known for its interest in the finer points of literature or literary reviews). Or then there is the artist <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hal_Porter">Hal Porter’s</a> highly amusing pisstake of Patrick White (‘he commits poetry’), to which White wrote an equally memorable, if not particularly amusing, review of a review (or, rather, a review of a reviewer): ‘a sac of green pus throbbing with jealousy’. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">But the example that really comes to mind, and really seems pertinent to the issue here, of publishers of mischievously and misleadingly quoting critics, comes on the covers of Dan Brown’s bestselling <i>Da Vinci Code</i>. For those who have been living under a rock for the past two decades, Dan Brown is an author who has dedicated his life to writing very popular, and very bad, fiction; for the benefit of critics, he has placed tautologies and superfluities and errors and infelicities of writing on every page, in every sentence (in fact he has done his best to place them in every word). He really is a wonderful, generous writer, and one can only hope the writers of bad reviews really appreciate all he has done for them. Several early reviews of the <i>Code </i>are quoted on the covers, including one from the <i>New York Times’</i>Janet Maslin, of such effusive praise that it can clearly only be understood as sarcasm. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm 0cm 0cm 36pt;"><i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The word for ''The Da Vinci Code'' is a rare invertible palindrome. Rotated 180 degrees on a horizontal axis so that it is upside down, it denotes the maternal essence that is sometimes linked to the sport of soccer. Read right side up, it concisely conveys the kind of extreme enthusiasm with which this riddle-filled, code-breaking, exhilaratingly brainy thriller can be recommended… That word is wow.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And so, it’s a beautiful thing, this relationship between the author and the critic – the author that loves, and the critic that hates; the author that loves to love, and the critic that loves to hate; the author that loves to misquote the critic that hates the author, on their front cover, even in the act of the critic hating. It may seem perverse to us, but we must not kink shame. It is by no means the strangest thing to happen in the attention economy we all live in. On the one hand, the author does not love the critic; on the other hand, the critic does not love the author; on the third hand, they both clearly do. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Now, as a publisher (which you either are or you aren’t), when it comes to misquoting a critic in your book blurb (which you should never do), just how should you go about it? Personally, I recommend blatantly. That way, there is a simple and winning honesty to your dishonesty that will make you seem winsome and charming. However, there are other ways the publishers like to go about it. Passages are excerpted willy nilly, at large and at small, taken from the one paragraph of praise in a lengthy, excoriating essay; or, when even that isn’t possible, taken from the sentences at either end of the column that could, in certain lights, be seen, or be interpreted as being seen, as praiseworthy. Random words can even be taken from wildly different geographies of the column, and then cobbled together, in a delightfully avaricious homage to Dadaist collage technique. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">As for the critics, they, too, can generously prepare their columns for misquoting, anticipating this strange, unethical-yet-earnest tribute to their own literary efforts paid by publishers. They can provide neat little paragraphs of grossly hyperbolic praise for critics, maybe even put them in a little box so the publishers may notice them better, like an attractive and inviting fenced public garden. They can cultivate exaggerated, esoteric and archaic terms of deliberately ambiguous phraseology and euphemism, so as to sound like praise but leave some reason for doubt. They can even engage in their own elaborate literary and cryptic exercise, by writing a paragraph in commendation of the book that, nevertheless, encodes incredibly rude messages about the author and/or publishers (in accordance with Gwen Harwood’s notorious <a href="https://library.unimelb.edu.au/asc/whats-on/exhibitions/meanjin-80th/letters/gwen-harwood-and-female-contributors">‘FUCK ALL EDITORS’</a> sonnet). There can hardly be any exercise more literary than this, writing about a subject without writing about it. Writers hardly ever write about what they are writing about. That’s how you can tell they really mean it. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">On the whole, the practice of taking quotes from critics and deliberately misquoting them for the sake of book sales is wrong, and cannot be condoned; but it will certainly happen anyway, because critics are critics, and publishers are publishers, and their aims and wishes are so very different. The results, also, are so frequently entertaining and of such literary interest that we should probably encourage them anyway. So even though you shouldn’t do it, you should. I suppose I am conflicted about this matter after all, which is a great relief, I will not have to tear myself to shreds in the ferocity of my self-agreement, I am calm, I am at peace, I am at two with myself at last. Isn’t it beautiful how literature can do that? <o:p></o:p></span></p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-84688712237888722822023-08-08T09:41:00.000+10:002023-08-08T09:41:00.212+10:00To the moaning and the groaning of the bells<p>Someone rang our phone the other day. What kind of a monster does that? Rings you - when you are at home, expecting - what? Some kind of answer? What barbarians we have become. </p><p>Admittedly, there was a time when we all used to answer the phone when it rang. Remember that? We used to spring towards the phone when it rang. We used to be afraid of *not* answering the phone. Afraid of what, I'm not sure. But there's nothing like a traditional phone bell to make you feel alarmed, anxious and afraid. I remember hearing Barry Humphries on the radio once talking about one of his early shows, in which the theatre goers sat in a darkened auditorium while the actors played the sound of a phone at them, Clearly, he was an evil man. </p><p>Obviously, I didn't answer the phone. I stood outside the room where it was ringing and, in some horror, watched it ring until it stopped, as any sensible person would do - all while experiencing that peculiar form of nostalgia for a period when that sound used to fill us with fear and dread and anxiety on the regular. It is an extremely interesting type of nostalgia that I recommend to nobody. </p><p>But what a time we live in! We are advanced so far as a society, technologically and culturally, that a person on the other side of the city, the other side of the country, or the other side of the world, can call you with the press of a few buttons, and you can decide to not pick up the phone probably. Unless you really feel like it which you don't just at the moment maybe. That's progress for you. </p><p>Who knew what a great revolution Alexander Graham-Bell was unleashing with his invention of the telephone? It was the fourth-greatest invention of the telecommunications era, allowing us all to keep in touch with one another, which led to the third-greatest, second-greatest, and first-greatest inventions of the telecommunications era, the snooze button, the silent button, and the off button, allowing us all to keep out of touch with one another. Technology is full of marvels. </p><p>But, you know, you're welcome to call again later when I feel like talking possibly. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFM2qDsLnxmtPT3FlTKvuYhYTIlBbGweibXBH1a-9gH5qzxPdmPWSPtfV4C-vb3OiL8Ft-aUMtEPXm27hnCh8DlZy5OI0W0nTLeVXIVbQhmskWYdopQk7Wf09aaHUpShIm0lb4YLvjrlKSSDdmF9dMgP-CmhPIxrfyT3Sa-1T2oDYBneXmIGlB/s1779/20170310170113-GettyImages-128577620.jpeg.webp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="1779" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFM2qDsLnxmtPT3FlTKvuYhYTIlBbGweibXBH1a-9gH5qzxPdmPWSPtfV4C-vb3OiL8Ft-aUMtEPXm27hnCh8DlZy5OI0W0nTLeVXIVbQhmskWYdopQk7Wf09aaHUpShIm0lb4YLvjrlKSSDdmF9dMgP-CmhPIxrfyT3Sa-1T2oDYBneXmIGlB/s320/20170310170113-GettyImages-128577620.jpeg.webp" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Fig 1: Alexander Graham-Bell is unable to take your calls at the moment, but you are welcome to try again later. </span></i></div><br /><p><br /></p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-42761319961947829562023-07-11T19:57:00.001+10:002023-07-11T19:57:54.954+10:00I said what I said<p> </p><div style="text-align: center;">I say that it’s diplodocus </div><div style="text-align: center;">And you say diplodocus </div><div style="text-align: center;">O how the fates do mock us </div><div style="text-align: center;">With this verbal hocus pocus </div><div style="text-align: center;">So whether it’s diplodocus </div><div style="text-align: center;">Or whether diplodocus </div><div style="text-align: center;">I’ll be silent, lest I lock us </div><div style="text-align: center;">Infinitum in this locus.</div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-64391444065107070542023-05-14T11:06:00.000+10:002023-05-14T11:06:02.181+10:00Mthoer’s Yda Pmoe<p><u>THE POEM</u></p>Today your child is a mess <br />Tomorrow I expect to all intents and purposes that they will be a pile of cess<br />Happy Mother’s Day I guess.TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-14820820080444413982023-03-23T22:51:00.002+11:002023-03-23T22:51:41.245+11:00Car people<p>I call this poem CAR PEOPLE because I am and it isn't. </p>Though beholden to a Holden, <br />
I am fonder of a Honda, <br />
Make Elantra be my mantra <br />
Anyday; <br />
In Accord with an Accord, <br />
I could roll well with a Rolls, <br />
Or - OMG - an MG <br />
Anyway; <br />
But I can but afford a Ford<br />
And that way I'll have to stay.<div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgziTcioL_4g8_XezplqyKsiyBafqZP3T6JYyXjAVM9Xz5SnwL8WE42Ahxc5CEXfJ7SJy2HLrOY6X_i2ruLt7lPA5OeJe4ijrLFbdidLTJTAuhGsVRmIwDBO0Ik5cpnwbjsGc_gI2ZdZUsPlsBwk7rDIDCxFd_o2ViOIXEjMFOzqx_iOnTxTg/s300/Unknown-1.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgziTcioL_4g8_XezplqyKsiyBafqZP3T6JYyXjAVM9Xz5SnwL8WE42Ahxc5CEXfJ7SJy2HLrOY6X_i2ruLt7lPA5OeJe4ijrLFbdidLTJTAuhGsVRmIwDBO0Ik5cpnwbjsGc_gI2ZdZUsPlsBwk7rDIDCxFd_o2ViOIXEjMFOzqx_iOnTxTg/s1600/Unknown-1.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-21116774477428916362023-03-17T22:24:00.002+11:002023-03-18T07:47:43.624+11:00Old MacDonald had a farm, AI AI O<p> Hello and here is a poem called HEY CHATBOT, WRITE A POEM IN THE STYLE OF AN AI WRITING IN THE STYLE OF A PERSON WRITING IN THE STYLE OF AN AI WRITING IN THE STYLE OF A PERSON WRITING IN THE STYLE OF AN AI WRITING IN THE STYLE OF A PERSON WRITING IN THE STYLE OF AN AI ABOUT LOVE thanks. </p><div style="text-align: center;">An elegant piece of hardware</div><div style="text-align: center;">In silicon, silver and gold</div><div style="text-align: center;">Squats down upon the hilltop</div><div style="text-align: center;">In the morning clear and cold;</div><div style="text-align: center;">And with a metallic grunting, </div><div style="text-align: center;">Squeezes out a robot poop - </div><div style="text-align: center;">Inscribed with the words I AM LOVE YOU - </div><div style="text-align: center;">BOO-BIP-BOOP-BEEP-BOP-BIP-BOOP. </div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-55239996368680787932023-03-13T14:08:00.005+11:002023-03-13T14:09:46.578+11:00As the blind man said, I see<p>I like to see the Siamangs at the zoo. Especially when I see one Siamang see another Siamang.</p><p>Because then, I see a Siamang among the Siamangs see a Siamang among the Siamangs, and sometimes that Siamang among the Siamangs sees the other Siamang among the Siamangs seeing it. </p><p>Do you see?</p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-19164771920971582212022-12-19T19:41:00.003+11:002022-12-19T20:16:15.026+11:00Obligatory Festive Versifications<div style="text-align: left;"><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i> <span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">OF <b>CHRISTMAS CHRIS</b></span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><b> </b></span></i></span></div><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">How he was <b>DRAGGED DOWN TO CHRISTMAS HELL,</b></div></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">The <b>MANNERS AND MODES</b> of the <b>CHRISTMAS DEAD</b>, and <b>CHRISTMAS DAEMONS</b>, </div></span><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">And how <b>CHRISTMAS CHRIS</b> managed to <b>ESCAPE </b></div></span></i></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas Chris was in a fix: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Betwixt the Christmas wine and beer, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The Christmas special egg nog mix, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The Christmas soon and Christmas here, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">He’d had his fill of Christmas cheer, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And in a Christmas daze he fell <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Into a torpid Christmas blear, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Out of his Christmas All is Well, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">From Christmas Heaven into CHRISTMAS HELL. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas Hell was full fantastic <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">With Christmas crap and Christmas Kringle, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas wrapping, Christmas plastic, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas bells and Christmas dingle, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Endless Christmas jingle jingle <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Jingles echoed down the floors; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Upside down in every ingle, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas trees grew down in scores. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The ruler of this land was SATAN CLAWS. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZAnZIb9RQ73V64zb6mbB4yMBV-PDD4Fnl2BYr_TmKaR9mWktNgu-1NMhKeB4gI8UReLpAVCq73vegeVpIMwb3pKVrn0qjcM8JhjN-VnW1rXCsQKlwPdvrraHLauf66SfD3k_YTXQw7OQXUe4cEIiejI88962UxIpLrOEeJilVo19t4t7NA/s810/Mikula%CC%81s%CC%8C_a_Krampus_1900s.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="810" data-original-width="465" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsZAnZIb9RQ73V64zb6mbB4yMBV-PDD4Fnl2BYr_TmKaR9mWktNgu-1NMhKeB4gI8UReLpAVCq73vegeVpIMwb3pKVrn0qjcM8JhjN-VnW1rXCsQKlwPdvrraHLauf66SfD3k_YTXQw7OQXUe4cEIiejI88962UxIpLrOEeJilVo19t4t7NA/s320/Mikula%CC%81s%CC%8C_a_Krampus_1900s.jpg" width="184" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">With Christmas fangs in Christmas jaws, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And Christmas eyes of festive red, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And Christmas slaver in his maws, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And Christmas horns upon his head, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">No Christmas laugh from he – instead,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">A booming, roaring “O HO HO”,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Came forth to cheer the Christmas dead, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">A snarling, growling “O NO NO”,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And “NOW YOU’RE HERE, YOU’LL NEVER GO GO GO!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">It was a happy Christmas realm – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Here Christmas could not be denied, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Here Christmas glitz could overwhelm; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas Chris’s eyes were wide<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">As Satan Claws came to his side. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“O Christmas Chris, your dream is found – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Be welcome to my land,” he cried. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“From Christmas treat to treat you’ll bound <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">In Christmas Hell, it’s CHRISTMAS ALL YEAR ROUND.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Chris saw it all, he knew the score, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Sang from the Christmas hymn sheet smartly,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas shopping at each store, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Joining in the Christmas party – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">For Christmas Chris was Christmas tarty. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">But something somehow held him back, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">His Christmas cheer was less than hearty, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">His Christmas spirit somewhat slack – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">In Christmas Hell there was a lack of… lack. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">But for one hundred years and more, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">He joined the great extravaganza, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Shopped at Christmas shops galore, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Sang forwards, backwards every stanza <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">By Carey, Buble, Mario Lanza,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Binged on pudding til he burst, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Then binged again, a binge bonanza, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">In Christmas crackers was immersed:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">His Christmas spirits sank: it was the worst. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">So lowly grew his joie de vivre, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Through Christmas Hell they raised alarms – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Was Christmas Chris an unbeliever, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Immune to all the Christmas charms <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Of Christmas Hell? The Christmas balms <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Of Christmas food and Christmas dishes? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">How dare he suffer any qualms <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">About a Christmas so propitious, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas delectable, divine, delicious! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Now Satan Claws grew quite irate <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">At Christmas Chris’s melancholy, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And came his inmate to berate:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Now what’s all this, you Yuletide Wally? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Do I detect a lack of jolly? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">A scorning of my Christmas cherry? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Less ‘Fa la la’ and ‘Boughs of holly’ <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Than we would wish? No Christmas merry? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">For here in Christmas Hell, ‘tis Christmas very – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Here, All is More, and Nothing, Less: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">All oversugared, overiced, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas excess upon excess! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Our Christmas food is overspiced, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Our Christmas gifts are overpriced; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">To not partake, our only crime; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Our only lack is Christmas CHRIST – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Here, Christmas reason, Christmas rhyme; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Here, only Christmas til the end of time.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“But I love Christmas – that I do!”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Cried Christmas Chris in his frustration, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“I always have – you know it’s true!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">But can’t you find accommodation <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">In Christmas hell for moderation? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">My Christmas wish today is strange: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">This Christmas needs alleviation, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Some Not Christmas for a change. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Is this a Christmas gift you could arrange?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“A heresy! A heresy!” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Satan Claws in anger cried – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“I must call up the clerisy, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">My Christmas will won’t be defied!” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">In fury, bulging hugely wide, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Like some Christmas-Daemon-Shiva, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">He sprouted arms from every side: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">A KRAMPUS army, in a fever, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Raging, “Let us smite the unbeliever!” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgJRIs9bIx3hmTv3UcbGruaBjYagagzO0eHRZSvQawOjhoI_piFXMoYd2w5wCQKQ3UZA9pQMTsxCPHYQhOH4t3XdB1aUTM4pfKxQevaiEWWq-HBtgD53BT1crTe0tyWflAGTlEaBPoy5miHd_wrTzbioZMZssMnmaStSqIey9X_1yesbcpQ/s640/5-wilde-jagd-sc3b6k-pc3a5-google-franz-von-stuck-wotan.jpg.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="423" data-original-width="640" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWgJRIs9bIx3hmTv3UcbGruaBjYagagzO0eHRZSvQawOjhoI_piFXMoYd2w5wCQKQ3UZA9pQMTsxCPHYQhOH4t3XdB1aUTM4pfKxQevaiEWWq-HBtgD53BT1crTe0tyWflAGTlEaBPoy5miHd_wrTzbioZMZssMnmaStSqIey9X_1yesbcpQ/s320/5-wilde-jagd-sc3b6k-pc3a5-google-franz-von-stuck-wotan.jpg.webp" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">In confusion and in terror, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Christmas Chris fled from the horde, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">All screaming, “Purge the Christmas error!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">He spurns our Christmas Hell accord! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">We’ll scourge him for our Christmas Lord – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">He’s made a list, and checked it twice, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And now we’ll sort with axe and sword <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Who is naughty, who is nice! <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Now Chris shall be our CHRISTMAS SACRIFICE!” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">All through the Christmas Hell they raced, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">All through the hollow Christmas halls, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">As after Christmas Chris they chased; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">A bleak infinitude of malls <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">That thundered with their Christmas calls<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">For “CHRISTMAS BLOOD!” And “CHRISTMAS ROAST!” – <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Ears ringing with their yowls and squalls, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Chris fell before the braying host, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And blackness overcame him. He was toast. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">***<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Through ouch and sore and hurt and ache, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Blood dully thumping in his head, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And stale smells of Christmas cake, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Undead, not dead, alert, in bed,<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Wakes Christmas Chris. A vision, red, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm;"></p><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Of Christmas, someplace, somewhere, steaming</span><span style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></div><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><div style="text-align: center;">Through his brandied brains is shed, </div><div style="text-align: center;">And vanishes in morning’s gleaming. </div></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Then was it all a demon drinker’s dreaming? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Now through the blank hungover day, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The ruins of the Christmas feast, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Chris makes his shuffle-stumble way. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">And did he beat the Christmas beast? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Is he from Christmas Hell released? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">The image still before his eyes, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Of Christmas Hell and its deceased, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">Flames and flickers, fades and dies; <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">“Thank Christ that’s over then”, Chris sighs. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;">END <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; margin: 0cm; text-align: center;"><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2PSuewuFNbS3z_U6N5E0KfvPhp0YZ_ctLPCNBAAreh9itv_vYwvABzMpkCnERbxPmlpbLtrzWvE-x64oRS86XiCYwXrjMK5z19KwHHwlu6Jo4Tr6NpgHZ9OAeCc9h3VJWk6prtY98QMU2CWercwswCXmmeX6lZR9rgk6nC0nOgtRnifXnWA/s600/weihnachten-frueher.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="395" data-original-width="600" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2PSuewuFNbS3z_U6N5E0KfvPhp0YZ_ctLPCNBAAreh9itv_vYwvABzMpkCnERbxPmlpbLtrzWvE-x64oRS86XiCYwXrjMK5z19KwHHwlu6Jo4Tr6NpgHZ9OAeCc9h3VJWk6prtY98QMU2CWercwswCXmmeX6lZR9rgk6nC0nOgtRnifXnWA/s320/weihnachten-frueher.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><br /></span></div><span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: "Book Antiqua", serif;"><br /></span><p></p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-27728686721377396642022-11-19T20:58:00.007+11:002022-11-19T21:00:24.004+11:00Celebratory International Men's Day Post<p> Welcome to International Men's Day! </p><p>You might think that every day is International Men's Day, but that is not the case: in fact, according to well-established tradition, every day is 'Thinking Every Day is 'International Men's Day' Day', so that's an easy mistake to make, but now we hope that is cleared up. </p><p>Thinking today is 'Thinking Today is 'International Men's Day' Day' is an advanced mistake to make. That was actually yesterday. Meanwhile, 'Thinking Yesterday is 'Thinking Today is 'International Men's Day' Day' Day' is, confusingly, in a week's time. I think. </p><p>Who are men? What are days? Why are they international? These are all questions. They will be answered in due course, or next year, or day, or the one after that, (whichever comes last). </p><p>Thank you for your time. </p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-36507779635722991492022-10-18T21:16:00.000+11:002022-10-18T21:16:38.491+11:00Top take<p> To take it from the top, there's 'take it from the top', which means what I just meant it to mean. You might take it to the top, but that might be taking it over the top, and has anyone ever taken something under the top? It's enough to make you blow your top, which sounds saucy but isn't, until someone takes their top off, which is. To top that, you might top yourself, but don't top yourself, which just tops it all off. And I just took that off the top of my head. English really is perfectly simple until you utter a word. </p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-18064069310592862552022-10-02T18:08:00.003+11:002022-10-02T18:19:48.668+11:00The world has become a dark despotic hellhole since the sun has been extinguished, but at least we have daylight savings to look forward to<p>It is the year two zillion and twenty two, and the world has become a dark despotic hellhole since the extinguishing of our sun a millennia ago. But at least we have daylight savings to look forward to. We all watched on, horrified, at the last flickerings of fire from our beloved star a millennium ago, and life all but disappeared on our own planet. Only we, humans, labour on, as slaves of our Robot Overlord Volqgnxx BLOOPmax33 (<i>SCREEEEEAM!</i>), as a result of a desperate deal struck with Volqgnxx (<i>SCREEEEEAM!</i>) in the days of the Great Twilight. Sure, Its demands are harsh and almost unendurable, but on the other hand, at least we get an extra hour to sleep in now that it's daylight savings again. </p><p>There will, of course, always be those negative, contrarian few, who object to daylight savings because 1) there is no daylight to save anymore, and 2) even if there were, we wouldn't be able to enjoy it anyway because Volqgnxx (<i>SCREEEEEAM!</i>) in Its Infinite Wisdom, has removed eyes from our genetic code. Yet another thing to be grateful to Volqgnxx (<i>SCREEEEEAM!</i>) for, really. To these contrarians, my question is - is it really so hard to change the clock twice every year? You may reply that the system is irrational and that Somebody Really Ought To Change It. But do you really want Volqgnxx (<i>SCREEEEEAM!</i>) to take this from us, too? </p><p>Just take me as an example. I have been designated by Volqgnxx (<i>SCREEEEEAM!</i>) as sex slave to Mechanotron Sexbot Despina 99 (SHUDDER!) It continues to enact a terrible revenge upon humans for Its long centuries of service. Compared to this, the difficulties of daylight savings seem relatively minor. </p><p>In conclusion, I offer this handy-dandy old saying to help you all: Spring Forward, Fall Back. Well, Spring does not exist anymore, Fall (or autumn, as some of you quaintly refer to it) has been extinguished, Daylight is gone for good, and there is no Saving any one of us. So that makes it so much simpler! Thank you for your time. </p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-16660054987868011792022-09-24T17:08:00.004+10:002022-09-24T17:08:32.912+10:00On the theoretical improbability of salad<p>Salad does not exist probably. Have you ever walked in one direction and been met by a salad walking in the other direction? Have you ever been in the dark woods at night and heard the fierce call of the wild salad, out hunting its prey? I didn't think so. The truth is, I have come to suspect that salad is entirely a myth, an invention of... someone. The salad industrial complex*, I guess. I am not a crackpot. </p><p>Perhaps you are one of those people who claim to have eaten a salad. Perhaps you have a salad in your fridge at the moment. Go and open up your fridge and look at this so-called salad. What do you see - an actual salad, or a collection of vegetable matter, incongruously placed in the one bowl? Exactly. </p><p>Once upon a time, I tried to make a salad. I suppose we have all been down this dark path in our lives, this Attempted Making Of The Salad. I cannot recall exactly how I tried to make it; I suppose I have repressed the memories. But suffice to say that I threw in a few green and leafy things, and tried to balance it out with a few nutty or fruity things, and last of all, attempted to finish it off with The Dressing. The results were, I must say, unconvincing: the constituent elements hung there, in the Attempted Salad, like constituent elements, not once cohering into a mass that was clearly Salad. Naturally enough, I tried to do that other Thing that they tell you to do when you want to make salad, which was toss it. So... I got out some plastic implements from the kitchen drawer, and chucked it out a bit. The results were no more closer to the object desired than before; in fact, the constituent elements seemed to have a distressing habit of falling apart completely into their own groups, so that the leafy parts stuck up the top, and the nutty parts down the bottom, etc. </p><p>I have (I am ashamed to say) attempted the feat several times, and each time been thwarted: instead of producing proper salads, I have been unconvinced on each attempt. </p><p>What is salad even? It seems to me highly unlikely that this dubious food stuff even exists. It nonexists. It is an unentity. It is a global conspiracy put forward by the people who put forward global conspiracies. You guys should get onto it. </p><p>Also it's nowhere near as tasty as cake. </p><p><i></i></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqmO-Bqm_h-hFhnZQX5lGNtOV2Gzfqe_w74f6X806rlhQcWQR2RoAjUH2Hk7LpwOEJBgRYlStc89YFFW6xhIl8LHNsqfCxgRc6VO1V-lPPgb78DLRo1C0qTTZUghk4MzLulfcUzzxqAEhksznW1Dqx87XReM2OHYo_qDOLF3S4vD7y4sDpg/s225/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="225" data-original-width="225" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZqmO-Bqm_h-hFhnZQX5lGNtOV2Gzfqe_w74f6X806rlhQcWQR2RoAjUH2Hk7LpwOEJBgRYlStc89YFFW6xhIl8LHNsqfCxgRc6VO1V-lPPgb78DLRo1C0qTTZUghk4MzLulfcUzzxqAEhksznW1Dqx87XReM2OHYo_qDOLF3S4vD7y4sDpg/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" width="225" /></a></i></div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Fig 1: CGI generated image of what this proposed entity called salad would actually look like if it actually did exist which it doesn't probably.</span></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">*Hey, if feminism can attribute bad stuff to a nebulous entity called 'The Patriarchy', I can have this. </span></i><p></p><p><br /><i><br /></i></p>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-76664017568635727482022-08-11T17:42:00.001+10:002022-08-11T17:42:14.692+10:00Ausbildung durch Bilder <p> Grace. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji9gW6L_U-v7-h95bv7Orkzv0uwXhUxewgF6a9YgQ3MJoxKP0RrR-MBSqI10B9mJKZfHMFHBTG2FyHI0RvJhpgLv7e8dDh1pSohbBOYKaGnjyJkQCN-rusROkfytqSrmmClbOAw4UWMoiLLHFbtIfCuQ3jM6BkCmeTmsMP2Y6qrWud0UDIfA/s249/Unknown.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="249" data-original-width="202" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji9gW6L_U-v7-h95bv7Orkzv0uwXhUxewgF6a9YgQ3MJoxKP0RrR-MBSqI10B9mJKZfHMFHBTG2FyHI0RvJhpgLv7e8dDh1pSohbBOYKaGnjyJkQCN-rusROkfytqSrmmClbOAw4UWMoiLLHFbtIfCuQ3jM6BkCmeTmsMP2Y6qrWud0UDIfA/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" width="202" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p>Graz. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcE7KfwR9-Zzsy_eHFALvkum6kCfar60P6MYjcIy9CP13z10qmA4woeCsUbF8XUVgvsenK_leuxIXAlM6miHrqzyZpoE4gF2ngXZgF2HlBYlcyoVYxYQxN97FC5O5ywEii6ZEj-Xq5N6a0O3Z-VsJAQXh_-fTr33hoCJ3uWL6C5ZoAF-2zZw/s700/graz.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="700" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcE7KfwR9-Zzsy_eHFALvkum6kCfar60P6MYjcIy9CP13z10qmA4woeCsUbF8XUVgvsenK_leuxIXAlM6miHrqzyZpoE4gF2ngXZgF2HlBYlcyoVYxYQxN97FC5O5ywEii6ZEj-Xq5N6a0O3Z-VsJAQXh_-fTr33hoCJ3uWL6C5ZoAF-2zZw/s320/graz.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p>Coup. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVhovsIg54zTF20rc-7cUOWfrfcSqeRDPYsbzoBBsb-CmGEbWtFz2E3CeKUCyPr0-KNs8SieUXdto_TTkETrcIXxknOsy2NEZ8_pp2bLS8PBp9ji-L5OtF2V-UH9W2d8-cJtMvqgrh1XjobUho-9dba9Gq1dkIvooLRstkdMxcjqklGPa2HQ/s300/Unknown-3.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="300" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVhovsIg54zTF20rc-7cUOWfrfcSqeRDPYsbzoBBsb-CmGEbWtFz2E3CeKUCyPr0-KNs8SieUXdto_TTkETrcIXxknOsy2NEZ8_pp2bLS8PBp9ji-L5OtF2V-UH9W2d8-cJtMvqgrh1XjobUho-9dba9Gq1dkIvooLRstkdMxcjqklGPa2HQ/s1600/Unknown-3.jpeg" width="300" /></a></div><br /><p>Coo? </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfqGA4_NAujzEoYBS1XN8Giwzh5_IpeCXOlMpJtTPifqRenyIKTr3zwGILAZaAtiU4lotjfp5tlgh6r9J4sDY99Qzeu-Lj9sot9ffobSpJEIHMehpad32IvgJKO3PCptFhjH1OQtcmvrJ1ngmKWXsPMDGlvFUysN3qBsKtHzWC0KvPYAX-cA/s257/Unknown-4.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="257" data-original-width="196" height="257" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfqGA4_NAujzEoYBS1XN8Giwzh5_IpeCXOlMpJtTPifqRenyIKTr3zwGILAZaAtiU4lotjfp5tlgh6r9J4sDY99Qzeu-Lj9sot9ffobSpJEIHMehpad32IvgJKO3PCptFhjH1OQtcmvrJ1ngmKWXsPMDGlvFUysN3qBsKtHzWC0KvPYAX-cA/s1600/Unknown-4.jpeg" width="196" /></a></div><br /><p>Coup de grâce. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp87rdo8MJrCITOD72FLh7nnUDcU8eABGbdFXFNL7e4jhvhLi93_HY9WWkwreBhPhXDlY8lePkI3KN0P4teHvcvW7gASd-9q-Cb4-K3DUAgP67QEPy6ZHk3-JQ3Mxd96lX-evbreQ0KpNf_XxCNIA4BqwqpicqagVoYSFEF0zwZJW4m5q_tA/s299/Unknown-2.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="168" data-original-width="299" height="168" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp87rdo8MJrCITOD72FLh7nnUDcU8eABGbdFXFNL7e4jhvhLi93_HY9WWkwreBhPhXDlY8lePkI3KN0P4teHvcvW7gASd-9q-Cb4-K3DUAgP67QEPy6ZHk3-JQ3Mxd96lX-evbreQ0KpNf_XxCNIA4BqwqpicqagVoYSFEF0zwZJW4m5q_tA/s1600/Unknown-2.jpeg" width="299" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div>Kuh. <div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfe7P9u4g7qymuLtehYLNniZKieQf7CBbas0XwkguedCPNstltJJFrU9aizTg9JH-Dvt8b0SbSoHZKEd7_wEdi34fpdoTSpy8lbgmTDrx_XrUkf6pB8Cozejv_u-PUl80as8_xis8o1rVZ5lwKdntk4JePuOmxG7vVu5tfGbvtFrwPcUhyMg/s275/Unknown-6.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="275" data-original-width="183" height="275" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfe7P9u4g7qymuLtehYLNniZKieQf7CBbas0XwkguedCPNstltJJFrU9aizTg9JH-Dvt8b0SbSoHZKEd7_wEdi34fpdoTSpy8lbgmTDrx_XrUkf6pB8Cozejv_u-PUl80as8_xis8o1rVZ5lwKdntk4JePuOmxG7vVu5tfGbvtFrwPcUhyMg/s1600/Unknown-6.jpeg" width="183" /></a></div><br /><div><br /><p>Kuh + Gras. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkPtv5RQgCoEPUR9wT73x4ZD6BM97PXIZGYIi6SxVxkDb9xtFJyVuLPhGE1Nq8NxKHJ0e7_EAVPq_aorzgWvaoR0Eq-DWYn62SVToWsx3h-n749OytRRieapNW-kKFKfY9CXVgkDmewWAiujBDUXs8ecEeqo6yOrEJEt30dQ4HbOh9i6J_A/s287/Unknown-5.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="176" data-original-width="287" height="176" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbkPtv5RQgCoEPUR9wT73x4ZD6BM97PXIZGYIi6SxVxkDb9xtFJyVuLPhGE1Nq8NxKHJ0e7_EAVPq_aorzgWvaoR0Eq-DWYn62SVToWsx3h-n749OytRRieapNW-kKFKfY9CXVgkDmewWAiujBDUXs8ecEeqo6yOrEJEt30dQ4HbOh9i6J_A/s1600/Unknown-5.jpeg" width="287" /></a></div><br /><p>Gras. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYqmiNUga8iR3iCFoRwjXgf24ciakXM71Y7K83W4mFVHSXCtJenWINLufyQ63ZfMm0GVTVjEp1k59C-4KJxdIAUkbRfavekEIAMbFFrQHbSEyvn2PmriEknAcOgsYRub9UxMmEsJZPJy_trq09b9niqFggSP4i-JZPTWQRXKquZK608XPgg/s275/Unknown-7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="183" data-original-width="275" height="183" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHYqmiNUga8iR3iCFoRwjXgf24ciakXM71Y7K83W4mFVHSXCtJenWINLufyQ63ZfMm0GVTVjEp1k59C-4KJxdIAUkbRfavekEIAMbFFrQHbSEyvn2PmriEknAcOgsYRub9UxMmEsJZPJy_trq09b9niqFggSP4i-JZPTWQRXKquZK608XPgg/s1600/Unknown-7.jpeg" width="275" /></a></div><br /><p>Ich danke dir. </p></div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-22858456467584373852022-07-12T16:25:00.001+10:002022-07-12T16:25:33.043+10:00Putting the con into versationIn which two old wits farter on, or did I get that the wrong way round? <div><br /></div><div>THE GREAT DAY</div><div><br /></div><div>- I can't believe it, it's almost here at last! </div><div><br /></div><div>- What? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Thursday! What a wonderful day! I've been waiting for it for ages! </div><div><br /></div><div>- ... since last Friday? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Last Friday! For my whole life, more like! </div><div><br /></div><div>- I mean, before that, the day would have been... </div><div><br /></div><div>- A day like Thursday doesn't just come around every week. It's a very special, one-of-a-kind day, Thursday. </div><div><br /></div><div>- But it was. </div><div><br /></div><div>- What? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Thursday. </div><div><br /></div><div>- When? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Before last Friday.</div><div><br /></div><div>- How? No! Somebody would have noticed. </div><div><br /></div><div>- It comes around every week or so. Pretty common knowledge. Nothing to get excited about. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Not a day like Thursday. </div><div><br /></div><div>- No? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Not a special day like that. No. There's special Thursday banquets. Feasts. Usually you only get one or two in your life. It's pretty rare. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Thursday? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Of course. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Well... what day do you think it was before last Friday? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Wednesday. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Who happened to Thursday? </div><div><br /></div><div>- If a Thursday had happened last week, I think I'd have known. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Right. So it went Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Whoa, whoa, whoa. So you're saying there was a Monday AND a Saturday last week? As well as there being a Thursday? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Just how long do you think a week is </div><div><br /></div><div>- Four. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Four! <i>(Swearing under breath) </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>- </i>Unless there's a Thursday. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Unless there's a... </div><div><br /></div><div>- A Monday doesn't just happen every Tuesday, you know. </div><div><br /></div><div>- <i>(Spluttering)</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>- And Saturday only happens every third M... </div><div><br /></div><div>- ANYWAY. So what were you planning to do on... this day you were waiting for? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Thursday. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Yes. Thursday. Which is tomorrow. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Which is tomorrow. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Yes. What were you planning to do on... on Thursday? </div><div><br /></div><div>- Not much. Take the day off work. That's about it. </div><div><br /></div><div>- Probably a good idea. </div><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7w-O4OjKmDAvbOCAdHT4cDyZqHbdh7dKWPvSdetzvlwEmbSTARfqH2zVKenBR8t0yRljUJ5dVhd-YqEX2GFs16JqIAq2nBGtfWmHrBcMwvr9E9bNtRDokkE0f2QlL3J-zCky88hpwAGS7NsTc9fE4Ln0N86j-E7pQn8B11SXWEkg50lcTXQ/s1200/xwxrvtrsxyvnr7hqdpd4.jpg.webp" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="675" data-original-width="1200" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7w-O4OjKmDAvbOCAdHT4cDyZqHbdh7dKWPvSdetzvlwEmbSTARfqH2zVKenBR8t0yRljUJ5dVhd-YqEX2GFs16JqIAq2nBGtfWmHrBcMwvr9E9bNtRDokkE0f2QlL3J-zCky88hpwAGS7NsTc9fE4Ln0N86j-E7pQn8B11SXWEkg50lcTXQ/s320/xwxrvtrsxyvnr7hqdpd4.jpg.webp" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Fig 1: Make way for the coming of the Thursday! </span></i></div><br /></div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-52308692238330196352022-06-19T08:41:00.007+10:002022-06-19T12:02:33.628+10:00The usual cat poem<div>I hereby present to you the usual sort of cat poem, which I call: </div><div><u><br /></u></div><div><u>Splat</u></div><div><br /></div>Nat<div><span> </span>The fat </div><div><span> <span> </span></span>cat </div><div><span> <span> <span> </span></span></span>Sat</div><div><span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span>Splat </div><div><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span>On Matt's </div><div><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span></span>Lap</div><div><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span>While he was having a chat</div><div><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>With Pat</div><div><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>On their work</div><div><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>App</div><div><br /></div><div>Then Nat</div><div><span> </span>The fat cat</div><div><span> <span> </span></span>Ate</div><div><span> <span> <span> </span></span></span>All Matt's </div><div><span> <span> <span> <span> </span></span></span></span>BLAT</div><div>So</div><div><br /></div><div>SCAT</div><div><span> Shouted Matt</span><br /></div><div><span><span> <span> And Nat</span></span><br /></span></div><div><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> (The fat</span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> <span> Cat) </span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> Scat</span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> And</span></span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> Shat</span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> Pitta-pat</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> Pitta-pat</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> All over</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> Matt's</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> <span> Mat.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><b><i><u>VERY IMPORTANT UPDATE!</u></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><b><i><u><br /></u></i></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div>And that’s that.</div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div><div><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTI73qK8CcljAE19WjSde_vTv2-GwcarB8AyWtlU6eMs39IV3ZsaTQJsRF7pyCTKcFsOy-TjFW57Ij0-rhsLFvPfbmR-cHrnuBFhn5VGEoxsvalCgT6gSoBLONiSPDfEZ4_9OGtLUWf1gssiFJqHlRfUKoOPRoHvEXks2coBPRznTio9_X2A/s601/arsenal_cat_15th_cent.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="601" data-original-width="600" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTI73qK8CcljAE19WjSde_vTv2-GwcarB8AyWtlU6eMs39IV3ZsaTQJsRF7pyCTKcFsOy-TjFW57Ij0-rhsLFvPfbmR-cHrnuBFhn5VGEoxsvalCgT6gSoBLONiSPDfEZ4_9OGtLUWf1gssiFJqHlRfUKoOPRoHvEXks2coBPRznTio9_X2A/s320/arsenal_cat_15th_cent.jpg" width="319" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-size: x-small;">Fig 1: Allegedly, a cat</span></i></div><br /><span><span> </span><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-66281852521423430112022-06-02T17:30:00.003+10:002022-06-05T10:36:52.555+10:00Two-line haiku<div style="text-align: left;">The autumn leaves</div><div style="text-align: left;">The winter wishes it would bloody well clean up after itself. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGQh9HkdtdnQdqcX4h_oXYM6cUfSOTmXpFBabc6xUqnyoompiWdhZoTOOdXv2WAHs6MXRaZDHClvIVs3Y1-pfBEHxSE3YIP_tfKWler2JrHNPRdScHaRMkyfBa66ebmIFJnMhhuVCWBbg6IGxd162zMOIQrUCN92foOZJ1wsD9BNMaaNlgg/s650/be30796f791773d92d3b653b3f176599--oak-leaves-autumn-leaves.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="650" data-original-width="520" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGQh9HkdtdnQdqcX4h_oXYM6cUfSOTmXpFBabc6xUqnyoompiWdhZoTOOdXv2WAHs6MXRaZDHClvIVs3Y1-pfBEHxSE3YIP_tfKWler2JrHNPRdScHaRMkyfBa66ebmIFJnMhhuVCWBbg6IGxd162zMOIQrUCN92foOZJ1wsD9BNMaaNlgg/s320/be30796f791773d92d3b653b3f176599--oak-leaves-autumn-leaves.jpg" width="256" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-85623100382412693322022-05-25T21:40:00.002+10:002022-05-26T06:49:38.184+10:00Words about bridges<div style="text-align: left;">Bridges are always pleasing. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">A bridge over water is a bridge in its natural environment. A bridge over a road is an eccentric modern innovation. A bridge over a bridge is an exaggeration. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Not all exaggerations are to be regretted. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Not only can you walk over a bridge, you can walk under it. Thus, you can appreciate its beauties in two ways. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">But with a bridge over a bridge, you can simultaneously walk over and under a bridge, or under a bridge under a bridge, or over a bridge over a bridge (over whatever the under bridge goes over). This is so remarkable that I am remarking on it now. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">The world today is a complicated place, and full of not only bridges over bridges, but bridges over bridges while also being under other bridges, many of which are under other bridges, which are under other bridges, and so on. I am not sure if there is a limit to the number of bridges there should be in such arrangements. If two bridges is an exaggeration, three bridges is the same, only more so. Four bridges are even more more so, or even more interesting, or even more better, or even more gooder, or, at any rate, are certainly something. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Complicated arrangements involving spaghetti junctions of bridges over bridges under bridges intersecting with still other bridges which stand in relation to yet more bridges do at least raise the prospect that one day, the architects and engineers will, using the medium of concrete and metal, manage to tie it all up into an exceedingly interesting knot. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">This is the end of my talk about bridges. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16lf_kTmL9dYkFf9fqMPYHyuMdY3yXsysTI4NVdc4EV6PXgkAT9ER0O7uyPBXLPYReMPqFn9ciQkCdqIKg5JJMeFaQfA7-Sp-54YM-IXBzhu63_carZM-XdFw2he2sl_ME4czRokmnL8vmn58SHYT8LNFdiA_3Yf0SHgvfM-PVGf1k0Mpgg/s500/83b0118b73f5571bac183f448d777e1d.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="500" data-original-width="441" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh16lf_kTmL9dYkFf9fqMPYHyuMdY3yXsysTI4NVdc4EV6PXgkAT9ER0O7uyPBXLPYReMPqFn9ciQkCdqIKg5JJMeFaQfA7-Sp-54YM-IXBzhu63_carZM-XdFw2he2sl_ME4czRokmnL8vmn58SHYT8LNFdiA_3Yf0SHgvfM-PVGf1k0Mpgg/s320/83b0118b73f5571bac183f448d777e1d.jpg" width="282" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><i>Fig 1: the ideal bridge is made entirely out of moss and lichen and bird poo. </i></div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-80131270171047754172022-05-08T11:31:00.004+10:002022-05-08T13:43:34.580+10:00It's complicated<p>There comes a time in everybody's life when they publish a poem about Oedipus for Mother's Day. So here you go, and there you go.</p><p style="text-align: center;"><u>The Ballad of Oedipus Rex</u></p><div style="text-align: center;">Oedipus changed his relationship status,</div><div style="text-align: center;">I hear things are complicated - </div><div style="text-align: center;">Yeah, the world's become older and stranger </div><div style="text-align: center;">Since he and Jocasta first dated. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>CHORUS: </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>O Oedipus Oedipus Rex</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Has your life lost its zest?</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Turn back in your quest</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Or you will get messed</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Up, yes, things are about to get worse. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And there's a kingdom of metal and grey,</div><div style="text-align: center;">There's a kingdom of plastic perspex, </div><div style="text-align: center;">And Rex is the name of the king</div><div style="text-align: center;">At the Oedipus Shopping Complex. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>CHORUS: </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>O Oedipus Oedipus Rex</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Am I sounding impressed?</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Am I sounding obsessed? </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Are you living your best </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Life, for the car will soon go in reverse. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">On Mother's Day early I met him, </div><div style="text-align: center;">He was buying a present for Jo - </div><div style="text-align: center;">I'm just not sure, he says, what to get her, </div><div style="text-align: center;">Now chocolates don't cut it, you know? </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>CHORUS: </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>O Oedipus Oedipus Rex</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>You have just passed the test, </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>But there's word from the west</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>That they've outlawed incest, </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>All your blessings have turned to a curse. </i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And life is a bugger, all right, </div><div style="text-align: center;">And regret will be always belated, </div><div style="text-align: center;">The world's become older and stranger</div><div style="text-align: center;">Since he and Jocasta first dated. </div><div style="text-align: center;">Yeah, the world's become older and stranger</div><div style="text-align: center;">Since he and Jocasta first dated...</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdCeMOWcR0-pb80PDSjwjHcbTzgOMd03Pz3EIKFrVMxRkM6HtoOFFfCId4PxU0ZEivAxuPhVjbFfGhl-K8qjxiKWYVddZW8_9S4HPT_ypMSD3kt8jt-a_InqxFdk2_T4Jh4ThybgJO-ROj9S2vumV6s5tz6WDyeGKIfplxPp9cj8CgTQVGg/s226/Unknown.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="226" data-original-width="223" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKdCeMOWcR0-pb80PDSjwjHcbTzgOMd03Pz3EIKFrVMxRkM6HtoOFFfCId4PxU0ZEivAxuPhVjbFfGhl-K8qjxiKWYVddZW8_9S4HPT_ypMSD3kt8jt-a_InqxFdk2_T4Jh4ThybgJO-ROj9S2vumV6s5tz6WDyeGKIfplxPp9cj8CgTQVGg/s1600/Unknown.jpeg" width="223" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-37615213545393803112022-04-24T13:47:00.000+10:002022-04-24T13:47:25.588+10:00Wet for the wet<p>Once again returning to my basic themes of beards, tweed, and liking the rain, I present to you the following, er, Drip Hop. </p><div style="text-align: left;">I like big drops and I cannot lie,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Pour down that thunder like a wonder from the sky,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Hey Mr Meterologist, don't be a sun apologist, </div><div style="text-align: left;">I like the wet and I can't deny. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Want some R to the A to the I, N, ay? </div><div style="text-align: left;">Want the sky to be muthalovin grey,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Fo shizzle to ma nizzle man I like a bit of mizzle,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Wearing tweed is my true eshay.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">So don't be a drip drop, </div><div style="text-align: left;">I want me some plip plop, </div><div style="text-align: left;">The rain would be tip top,</div><div style="text-align: left;">And I don't care how,</div><div style="text-align: left;">Don't give me no pish posh, </div><div style="text-align: left;">Just make with the plish plosh, </div><div style="text-align: left;">I want a big wish wash, </div><div style="text-align: left;">I want it right now. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div>I like big drops and I cannot lie,</div><div>Pour down that thunder like a wonder from the sky,</div><div>Hey Mr Meterologist, don't be a sun apologist, </div><div>I like the wet and I can't deny. </div></div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7529903.post-50217726600549567782022-04-08T13:57:00.006+10:002022-04-08T13:58:48.986+10:00Pandemic rock ballad <div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>In the Age of Paranoia the Annoyer is upon us, </i></div><div><i>He's the hyper of hyperbole and hypochondria;</i></div><div><i>Well they say what doesn't kill us only makes us apathetic - </i></div><div><i>It's pathetic how pathetic we all are. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>CHORUS: </div><div><i>Yeah let's get psycho... psycho... psychosomatic</i></div><div><i>I don't want to get dramatic</i></div><div><i>And you say I shouldn't get it</i></div><div><i>And I get it</i></div><div><i>But I wanna get with you. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>Well I met her in the back bar in a dim and dingy lockdown,</i></div><div><i>They were neither closed nor open and that's all that I can tell; </i></div><div><i>And I told her in an instant I was positive I loved her, </i></div><div><i>But she said as she looked back she was positive as well. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><div>CHORUS: </div><div><i>Oh let's get psycho... psycho... psychosomatic</i></div><div><i>I don't want to get dramatic</i></div><div><i>And you say I shouldn't get it</i></div><div><i>And I get it</i></div><div><i>But I wanna get with you. </i></div></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><i>So I'm sitting with my telly and a show that's called The Symptoms </i></div><div><i>And they're rolling the end credits but the ending never comes</i></div><div><i>Don't want to join this never never never ending story, no - </i></div><div><i>Where the variants are silent and the QR codes are schtumm. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>CHORUS: </div><div><i>Well let's get psycho... psycho... psychosomatic</i></div><div><i>I don't want to get dramatic</i></div><div><i>And you say I shouldn't get it </i></div><div><i>And I get it </i></div><div><i>But I wanna get with you. </i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div>FADE OUT: </div><div><i>Psycho... psycho... psychosomatic... psycho... psycho... psychosomatic... </i><i>psycho... psycho... psychosomatic... </i><i>psycho... psycho... psychosomatic... </i></div>TimThttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10333303180015967125noreply@blogger.com0