Rambling on the Boggy Moors of Mind

Well I'm certainly no Virginia Woolf, more Little Red Riding Hood, without the gender gymnastics. But an unstructured drift through the intestines of life never did anybody any harm. Well... arguably.

Random thoughts.

(a) An old lady wanted to be an organ donor, so she asked two hefty removal men to take her harmonium to the local hospital. 

(b) We seem equally fond of ugliness and misery as we are of beauty and success. There's nothing more popular than crime, war, disasters and Dr. Pimple Popper. 

(c) Two high level theologians once washed up at a local hotel. They were certainly turning water into wine, booming across the public lounge with crisp lecturn voices. One was probably the boss man and the other his personal brown nose. Demolishing food with travel expenses and drooling zeal, the pair were settling in for a marathon. Then the door opened..

In came a party of twelve Yorkshire stalwarts. Howling every twisted vowel they boarded the table next to our clerical toffs, completely submerging them in a tsunami of noise. Chairs grated, laughter soared, belches and farts betrayed their antecedent attendance at the nearby pub. 

The toffs looked like they'd swallowed a sick bag.

An old couple around the corner called a waitress,

"Two toasted teacakes please. We feel like celebrating".

God frowned.

But not at the drunkards.

"We think we've got Covid" they later said.

As they brushed past the frozen toffs.

(d) Power to the people!