Saturday, August 30, 2008

Comments about unrelated but terribly important matters

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.


Kirsty said...

The influence of one N Cavenagh on your eating habits is becoming all too apparent.

TimT said...

If N and I share an enthusiasm for the eating of prunes, then that's all to the good, but I assure you, it's an independent addiction.

Would you like a prune?

Caz said...

Prunes are disgusting.

Winter is miserable.

I vomited while being made to eat prunes and custard as a small child. Haven't eaten prunes since. My mother had the good sense to never serve them to me again.

Paul said...

T.S. Eliot wrote about gutters[1], and W.H. Auden about nose-picking[2]. So it's not as bad as you think.

[1] Preludes, 1917.
[2] Tell Me the Truth About Love, 1938.

TimT said...

True, but I'll not be satisfied until they rename buttercups and butterflies guttercups and gutterflies.

I guess there's always gutter journalism.

And I had no idea prunes could cause such a reaction!

nailpolishblues said...

Having a pet makes the whole leaving things on thing seem a little less crazy..even if the pet is only a fish.

wanderer said...

at last i know where i can find
a friend a soul a mate
together we can stand and sing
it's summer that we hate

holding hands in common joy
swishing past the grate
dancing round the fireplace
it's summer that we hate

and when they point and smirk our way
when giggles test our fate
never fear for we know best
its summer that we hate

with matching scarves
it's ne'er too late
to join in honest outcry
its summer summer summer summer
its summer that we hate

Caz said...

Sooooo, you're going to get a bit tetchy about the whole global warming thing then Wanderer?

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