Just what we need; another sparrow with a jam tin on his head.
An over-inflated sense of self importance cannot be hidden behind fancy dress and ceremony. May as well hand out fizzy drink and fairy bread.
The most interesting ritual you left out firsty was the begging for s$x ceremomy. Now that ritual is worth studying
A sort of moment in time moment. A moment that would, if expressed in physical form, resemble a priceless pearl resting in a rosebud feeling; it’s the moment between the time my jeans are being stiff and unwieldy, and the other moment of being exactly how I want them: all conquering and striding free, the best jeans I’ve ever worn.
Two days later they will have collapsed into a cotton repository of used tickets, small change and half a square-tube of Buttermenthols.
Bowing to early morning parkers who choose my side fence to cuddle up to nose first because it is a car park side fence as well before I declaim they run into the side fence which is mine really and lovely especially twisted original and once restored wire. Witnits.
This opens opportunity I had not thought of before, but then again my name is not slipper.
I protest! In my day old undies had a God Given Right to be recycled as dusters and not tossed aside like a faded lover. It illustrates everything that’s wrong with this country!
59 thoughts on “Remember when, neither do I. But what if we did?”
drmick
February 15, 2012 at 1:44 pmJust what we need; another sparrow with a jam tin on his head.
An over-inflated sense of self importance cannot be hidden behind fancy dress and ceremony. May as well hand out fizzy drink and fairy bread.
The most interesting ritual you left out firsty was the begging for s$x ceremomy. Now that ritual is worth studying
paddy
February 15, 2012 at 1:47 pmWith “the traditional patting of the cat on the street”FD….
You rise from “legendary canine cartoonist”, to *National Living Treasure*.
P.S. Hide that key before the cops arrive.
zut alors
February 15, 2012 at 2:08 pmNot to mention the beatification of the car being lovingly hand washed and vacuumed.
It’s nice to start the parliamentary day with pomp and courtly manners before it all descends to hell once the members take their seats.
ianjohnno1
February 15, 2012 at 2:12 pmSummer doona? Where in Oz would one need such a thing?
SBH
February 15, 2012 at 2:13 pmAs a devout ex-catholic Mike, I have instituted (decreed?) Saturday morning as a holy day of obligation to get rid of all the mid week begging.
And you left out the laying on of hands on the dogs ears FD but I understand the exemplary nature of your advice.
Venise Alstergren
February 15, 2012 at 2:30 pmA sort of moment in time moment. A moment that would, if expressed in physical form, resemble a priceless pearl resting in a rosebud feeling; it’s the moment between the time my jeans are being stiff and unwieldy, and the other moment of being exactly how I want them: all conquering and striding free, the best jeans I’ve ever worn.
Two days later they will have collapsed into a cotton repository of used tickets, small change and half a square-tube of Buttermenthols.
Sandshoe
February 15, 2012 at 2:32 pmBowing to early morning parkers who choose my side fence to cuddle up to nose first because it is a car park side fence as well before I declaim they run into the side fence which is mine really and lovely especially twisted original and once restored wire. Witnits.
This opens opportunity I had not thought of before, but then again my name is not slipper.
Sandshoe
February 15, 2012 at 2:33 pmSorry…that’s a Cap ‘S’ Slipper.
LJG..............
February 15, 2012 at 2:49 pmI protest! In my day old undies had a God Given Right to be recycled as dusters and not tossed aside like a faded lover. It illustrates everything that’s wrong with this country!
Andrew L
February 15, 2012 at 2:54 pmMeowp indeed Firsty