Sometimes when I have music playing and I have to leave the house, I leave it on anyway. It's as if I say "amuse yourself while I'm out." I think my house is better for the music being left on. I did it this morning.
I'm going on a prune bender. Prunes are delicious. You should eat them more often. I think I'll have one now. Yum!
Clouds, daffodils, mountains, lovers, children, trees: these have all had things written about them. But what about gutters, nose-picking, scowls, dandruff, swamps, turtles, toads, mud and, yes, even broccoli? Poems about these things are not so popular. Poets have got a lot to answer for.
When I went to work yesterday, it was hardly cold at all, and the sky was a monotonous blue. Then I got in and found M and R saying to one another "Bring on spring! Bring on summer!" Please. It's bad enough that winter's ending without having to think about the coming heat-death. I hate summer.
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
- John Bangsund's Threepenny Planet
- Broken Biro
- Poetry 24
- Superlative scribbles
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- The Bolta. Aiyeeeeee!!!!!
- Bad Apple Audrey
- The cartoon church
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- A Zemblanian abroad and at home
- A hodge podge of hotzeplotz
- THE SLAMMA!
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- The Snarking of the Hunt
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- Be an Opinion Dominion Minion!
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- His brilliant career - from whale sushi to crumbed prawn
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- Chase him, ladies, he's in the cavalry!
- The Non-palindromical Editrix in Germanium
- Old Sterne
- The briefs...
- ... and the brieflets
- The Purple Blog
- Blairville, lair of all that is wicked and perfidious
- The enticingly acronymical CSH
- EXTREEEEEEEME WYNTER!
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