I thought that I would begin my day by checking the
Torygraph. As ever it provides a treasure trove of insightful material,
guaranteed to improve the mind.
I have already mentioned on facebook (who he? Ed.) this sad tale which I originally found elsewhere:
There is an article in the Indescribable today about a Tibetan monk who left his laptop on a train after having his photograph taken with Bozza. It claims that he is upset about losing years of research stored on it (the laptop - not the train or the photograph, do keep up). I suspect that he will be even more distraught when he comes face to face with Lord Yama who will tell him that he will be reincarnated as a slug for associating with slimeballs in this life. The path to liberation is strewn with distractions, and I, for one, will not be tempted, which is why I turn down the more lurid requests from some of you.
“William Wordsworth would be in 'fits' about planning reforms, says Sir Andrew Motion”. I wish that old Bill had been a political campaigner, rather than taking to his chalk and slate with the result that we were meant to study his utterances on damp October afternoons instead of being out losing our virginity behind the gym. Verbose old bugger. “Intimations of Immortality” my arse. In “The Solitary Reaper” Wordsworth describes the singing of a young lady, presumably she is singing in Gaelic as he wonders about the subject of her song. Well, Bill, she was actually chanting a warning to other local girls about a dodgy looking voyeur and potential pervert.
Mary Berry (who she? Ed) is campaigning against overcooked omelettes. I am sure you all share her outrage. There are cynics who would say that the established media have not only scraped the bottom of the barrel when it comes to suitable subject matter, but have removed 28 feet of topsoil beneath it. I have long eschewed the practice of digesting poultry periods, so her remonstrations will not attract my support, but let us all be grateful that she has found a cause that will add meaning to her life.
Finally, there is a long article about gifts being given to
prince George by the happy Antipodeans. They are wasting their time – I haven’t
even had a thank you note for the dog castrating kit that I sent him for the
christening. I know Bill is too dumb to write, but Kathy is capable of wielding
a crayon if there is a footman available to hold the paper still, ffs.
4 comments:
A fascinating reminder as to why I don't read the papers. I notice no one calls them 'news' papers anymore.
Thank you for this post and Happy Birthday for tomorrow.
Meanwhile... I will never look at an egg in the same way ever again.
Sx
Liz - I am happy to provide this service.
Thank you Scarlet. Love and peace.
Vicus, old son, thank you for your summary; I'm delighted that the Torygraph can be relied on to deliver the truth about the war to us Tommies. I can happily report that the Grauniad remains shrill and agitated about the sky falling, and insists on emailing me with its own "highlights" every day. Please can you have a word and take over this role? Yours etc, Indigo Roth (Mrs)
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