
These are just fleeting thoughts from the heartland of the UK's colonial dustbin somewhere beyond the wall of sleep. Odd bits of music and so-called worldly wisdom may creep in from time to time. Don't expect too much and you won't feel let down. As ever AI and old age are to blame. I'll just leave it there ...
Monday, September 11, 2017
Yesterday's Apples
That's the apples, all 9 of your English Kilograms stewed and stuffed and pruned and bagged and ready to head off the North Pole where a stupendous welcome awaits them. There are no apple trees in the North Pole and shortly there will be no North Pole either but that's just the way of cruel evolution, man's inhumanity to the world, the climate and various other things. Come the day we'll add a controlled drug know as sugar to these and so create the perfect "Crumble in the Jungle" as it's often called. In any other time of name creation it would be know as pudding but that's a term used by the chattering classes and not the likes of us. We don't call it dessert either because we can't really spell it and it can be ambiguous. No, the correct term is of course "afters". Custard can be added if you like that sort of thing.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment