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> Here comes the postman Walking down the lane What wonders he carries in his sack Multicoloured envelopes Brown and even plain Giros and Postal orders Parcels and bills Repeat prescriptions for next door So they can get their pills Letters from the bank Letters from afar Subscriptions to magazines Offers for a car Bulging
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So yesterday I took a trip with Rlindz and the wife to Birmingham to visit the BBC Good Food Show at the National Exhibition Centre. Bloody good it was too. Loads of food to see, beers to try and local produce to sample. Added to that gardens to peruse, posh garden kitchens (kitchens – for
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I am paprika. Orange, smoky and flavoursome. What herb or spice are you?
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Last night I was part of a group of people who had uncovered a sinister government plot (similar to the second hand television sales plot) in which a nasty virus was to be used against the population. Through all manner of events eventually there were three of us left. We had a canister of strange
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Emily Pankhurst can eat my shorts A poem by Stegzy Gnomepants aged 34 1/2 I tidy up I miss a bit I paint the room Looks like a dogs tit I cook your dinner You want to get thinner I am the sinner You are the winner I vacuum the floor There’s still dirt Sweep
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So I’m sat here in the garden overlooking the lane with no name. Parasol erected, bench nicely placed in the shade and a can of cool cold beer. This morning I had a trip to the dentist. £44 for a bit of metal to be stuffed into a hole. 20 minutes work. Tell you, if
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Last night I discovered that one of the gerbils i used to keep as a teenager was still alive and in a bad way seeing how nobody had cleaned or fed the poor bugger for 20 years. So I cleaned the cage and gave him some food and water. He seemed a little happier :).
The Compostual Existentialist 