The farthing

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My friend told me if I wanted to get married again I should not tell men I was a mathematician.So I’ll have to stop saying :I am 5/8 Irish and 1/3 Anglo-Saxon and  1/48 Viking.
That doesn’t add up to one.
I never said I was an integer!
If you   give too much detail it puts them off.
How about  :I am 38-28-40?
Is that your Zip code?
No, it’s my vital statistics.
I should wait till you know them better.
When will that be?
After you get the diamond ring.And stop using numbers so much use words. Hang on:Hello, this is 07576339417875640288r09777 .Hi.
That’s a funny phone number.
It  was the police.
How come they have your number?
I think it’s because  I told them you wanted to re-marry
Why tell the police, it’s not a crime.
I thought they might give you a job.
Why do I want a job?
To stop you getting married again.
But there are men in the police station.
You can’t marry them
Why not?
They are only coppers!
Well they are not farthings.
Remember the threpenny bit?
It  never bit me!
How about a half crown?
You sound like a barber.
And so say all of us.

 

How to learn English the long way

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Starters:

Jellied heels with frayed bunions
Muck hurtled suit.
Satirical  brains on boast.
Melania and grate solid
Fried brides on crumpets

 

Mains
Trumpled stake with French eyes and  invalid.
Lamb on the fence with sacred rice
Walls of macaroni cheese   free with cold ovaries
Conger reels on a bed of lies  and fried pirhanas.
Roast dicks and  grated parrots.
Toast reef and Yorks old Rifkind

Desserts

Korean I Scream with nuclear frissons
Custard warts and bedlam
Apple Trumplings with whites’ sauce.
Disputin’ cold farts.
Settlers nets on Yahoo with cream gaps.
Mexican planks  with caramel blusters.

Stan polishes the step

 

Stan was outside polishing the brass doorstep.”My, these microfibre cloths are wonderful” he thought.Mary was out taking a load of stuff to the Oxfam Shop.Suddenly he heard a loud cry., then he felt a pair of hands fondling the top of his bald head.
”Eeh, no rest for the wicked, even at 81,” he screamed.He staggered to his feet and rubbed his knees.”Just give me a hand” , he said,”‘l have to stretch my hamstrings.They tighten up so.”
“I’ll stretch them for you!” Annie whispered roguishly.Stan leant forward to touch his toes and she could not resist the temptation to give his bottom a hearty slap.
”For Pete’s sake, Annie” he shouted faintly.”Someone might see that.
””Don’t worry , there’s no-one around at this time of the day” she tittered.
“Oh, yes there is!”
It was Dave, the paramedic.He had been lying behind the wheelie bins, all three of them standing plaintively in the tiny front garden.
”I’m an MI5 spy, and I’ve been reading your blog, Mr Brown.”
“I’m not called Brown” , said Stan nerdishly.
”Refuses to accept reality, “Dave wrote in his little notepad with some blood he had taken from himself earlier,
”Jesus Christ!”, said Stan.
”Now , now, ” said Dave,”that’s not your name,
”No my name is Tan, not Brown, you’ve been reading the wrong blog!” “Stan Tan!”
Dave appeared crestfallen,
” Any chairs need mending today?”
“My what beautiful ears you have ,sweetheart,” he said to Annie,
“They look like sea shells.”
“Your eyes are like shallow pools in Lake Windermere during a thunderstorm.”Annie replied womanfully.”Are you still a transvestite?” she faltered incoherently.
“No, I had a mystical experience and now I’m a Zen Buddhist”
“How did that happen? ” demanded Stan querulously.
“Well, I was knitting myself a Shetland lace sweater in pale blue mohair, and I suddenly had the feeling that everything was interwoven.Going forward or backwards, sideways or straight ahead, it is all part of the warp and weft of life.”” Mistakes don’t matter” he continued idly.
”Oh,yes,they do,”Annie said pouting her full lips., coated in cherry pink lipstick by courtesy of L’oreal of Paris and New York,lip balm by Yves St Laurent, peach foundation by Lancome also of Paris,toning smokey grey mascara by Max Factor,handbag Annie’s own,deep burgundy 70 denier tights by M&S, Grey pointed ballet slippers by Bally of Switzerland.[also available in black, red and teal].Raspberry lingerie by M&S.
“As I was saying..,”
Dave dived back behind the wheelie bin.
Stan polished the brass and Annie disappeared in a puff of smoke.
It was Mary’s famous imitation of a bicycle bell that had alerted them to her imminent return from the Oxfam shop.
“Don’t they make bike bells anymore?” Dave boringly wondered as he carried on reading the new life of Emily Dickinson
“A loaded gun.”
He thought it was an army training manual but, hey, mistakes don’t matter! Or do they? Read more at your

Computer woes

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I have lost the charger for my laptop.I have another one but the head is larger.Should I bore a bigger hole into the side of my laptop?What with?

Why are all the chargers different sizes?

Some  software I downloaded won’t let me type cr*p.That’s why I can’t post much
I feel p*ssed off.Still it doesn’t know what feck means in Irish!

My boyfriend stole my other laptop and sold it to buy food.Is this a sin?He did share the food but why won’t he get a job and earn a wage?He is 98 but if he really tried he could find some kind of work like feeding ducks or taming wild cats.

Can I download the Internet  onto an external  hard drive and then hide it to stop Trump Tweeting?Where is it and why?

And as the cocks and chickens try to bleat

Did I say my heart is up the spout
And tea is sitting hotly in the tap
The kettle is complaining I’m a lout
And with its metal hand gives me a rap.

 

Did I say my bed has got no sheets
For I have published them in my new book
And as the cocks and chickens try to bleat
I buy a dress and  hey, it’s my new look

Did I say the cat will not go out
For he is never in, you see my joke
For logic is as stupid as no doubt
And torments  in its ice the evil folk.

Words are signals  telling us  we’re light
And so we float away into the night

Like music or the menace of Al-gebra.

The art of  loving’s likely going to cost you;
Like  music or the menace of al-gebra.
Will you pay the price,I  need to ask you?

Remember all the lovers who have tossed you!
They say for stress ,to imitate the zebra
The art of  loving’s surely going to cost you

Will you let me , now I need to grasp you?
I remember your first  girl,that minx called Debra
Will you eat my food,I   have to ask you?

I wonder how I’d  feel if I had lost you.
Can I  save your image  on my camera?
The art of  loving, what’s it going to cost you?

I recognise,I know your shape and posture.
I want to steal your kisses;may I rob you?
Will you pay  full  price,I   have  to ask you?

I’ve  loved a million men but not a cobra.
Do I need a permit if I love you?
The tact of  living’s likely to  bypass you;.
Will you pay the piper, when I frisk you?

Howl with discretion

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    She gave him a bowl of discretion and some milk of inhuman kindness
    I have the art and he has the craft but do we have the rhyme?
    Shalll we abandon  lips? Kissing is not to be scorned
    So it’s all about my face then?
    I sleep above the board and my head is underneath the bed.
    Absence makes the heart stray yonder.
    Advent makes my whole heart ponder
    Resolution falters after the facts.
    He said his face was in the hole and his balls was up a tree.Bad grammar!
    His body is still missing apart from his complexion
    He keeps his face up his sleeve since he saw a naked woman
    Why did Achilles not heal?
    The unborn don’t fall down on me!
    Factions speak louder than wholes
    Fictions speak sounder than truths.
    After viewing my own art I need a shrink
    After viewing my own heart I can’t think
    If you show me your part, I can yank
    After suing my own heart I winked.Or wanked?

It’s not quite infidelity

My husband had never looked less livid

As he died down in old A and E.

His colour was vivid

His hair was  all withered

He cried,Where the hell do  I be?

 

I said,you’re in bed with a lady

So I’ll arrange for a speedy divorce.

You’ll have to hurry,

If you wish to re-marry.

If needs be, I shall use  polite force.

 

He winked at me solemn as Moses

After wandering the Sinai for years.

He said,Dear I love you

There’ no lady above you

Don’t spend too much on my hearse.

 

 

 

Would you like me to marry my lover?

He’s gone cold waiting out in the shed!

He said,don’t ask me yet  for

My  mood’s on a see -saw

Take whom you like when you wed.

 

But first  give me a nice service

Sing Pie Jesu for me!

Your voice is so sweet

It shall be my last treat.

Oh,Lord,how I  deeply love thee.

 

I said that is  very ambiguous

Do you love me  best or Jesu?

He said I love both

Yet I love God the most.

So there’s not very much I can do.

 

 

He imitated a dying   philanderer.

.But alas it was only too real.

My hand on his nose

Almost gave up the ghost.

It froze  and it stuck like a seal.

 

 

Oh,doctor can you separate us

For I am not yet quite dead?

My only concern

Is to take a short turn

As my boyfriend is  alone in the shed.

 

You sinner,the doctor said to me

You committed adultery twice.

Well,I had to be kind

My boyfriend’s half blind.

Is that an excuse for my vice?

 

I didn’t want love in the garden

As we might have frightened a snail.

It’s not quite  infidelity

To love a man gently

When your husband’s as dead as a nail.

 

Anyway,my heart is no  longer alive,doc

In the shadow of death ,life is weak

I pretended to be  wicked

As my husband often  bickered

Diabetics  make their carers feel bleak.

 

I see you were lost in fantasia,

While singing the psalms to your spouse.

I shall forgive you

No-one else lives like you.

You have often kept your wedding vows.

 

What do you mean saying often?

He’s the only man  I’ve ever loved.

For his sense of humour

Cleared out all my  gloomour

I called him my chicken,my dove.

 

The force of procreation is violent

And drives lonely women to bed.

God made us like this

As he made  grass snakes hiss.

Upon hearing this the doc fled!

Don’t sing in your sleep

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They have a colour bar in  our Church.You have to be green  before you can go to Confession on Saturday  night.Otherwise it’s  £50
Men are treated unfairly now.They have to break their own wind!
Women are treated very kindly nowadays.They can turn themselves on with a vibrator to make the bed warm in winter.Alternatively try wearing a nightdress and a  wig in case Leonard Cohen calls on you.If he sings,Ain’t no cure for love,invite him to join you and do your best.After all, he is dead now.
If you feel blue don’t worry.I like to feel blue too.But I  am not dead yet.
And don’t sing in your sleep .I did in 2010 and see what has happened to me.I have this blog!

I didn’t know we were trading with North Korea

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Mary was sitting in the window  waiting for Amazon to deliver some cushion covers. Then she saw a van outside and a handsome young man  walked up the path to her green door

When Mary saw the cushion covers she was very pleased because the pink ones were in fact coral and she prefered coral to pink or red
She was using some memory foam to make her chair more comfortable but as it had no cover over it it would  to get very dirty ,not to mention it would look horrible. By mistake she had also ordered to Golden  cushion covers but they will come in useful no doubt in the bedroom as a  touch of gold is very romantic and elegant
Emile  her little cat had jumped inside the cardboard box and he was chasing his tail as cats like to do. If Mary had a  Tale it would not fit inside a cardboard box but only in a computer.
After putting the coral covered cushion onto her  chair  she lay back comfortably whilst admiring Leonard Cohen’s hawk like nose as he sang Closing Time on YouTube.
What a pity that I never met a man with a hawk like nose ,she thought.
There is something about a hawk like those that is very charming and at the same time gives a hint of  attractive danger.
Should a woman who wanted  a hint of danger ever get involved with a man like that? For wonderful as Mr Cohen was,  his love life did seem to be quite painful. Is it better to be so handsome and winning and have lots of girls chasing you or are you better off just being ordinary and winning the love of one good woman/man who will stay with you forever.?
As Mary was not a man she was unable to answer the question. but Leonard Cohen was only human and even if  he did have a lot of girlfriends  breaking up is very painful to do
I think that if you are a poet or an artist you need a lot of time alone and such a man would not want to waste  time driving you to Tesco’s and spending two hours trying to decide what kind of soup to buy. nor would he be interested it in the kind of cushion covers that you wanted or whether you should use a souffle dish for the Sunday roast. Of course he was Jewish so it would have been the Sabbath meal that was important that I do not think that roast beef and Yorkshire puddings are what most Jewish people eat on the Sabbath I may be wrong.
Mary sat staring that Leonard Cohen for ages.I wonder if he died because of Donald Trump being on the television so much in the pre-election time .He would probably collapse  if he saw what Donald Trump has done so far. It is completely  unimaginable  to people like Mary and  her friends that a  democratic country could elects such a man
 In came Annie wearing a red and yellow striped coat.
Good gracious cried Mary where did you get that from?
It was hanging on a hook in the hall ,Annie  replied sarcastically.
Did you mean where did I buy it from?
Yes,I did of course, any idiot would know said Mary rudely
~Well I bought it in the market. it was only £15.99 and it says made in North Korea.
I didn’t know we were trading with North Korea said Mary nervously
Well,you know now, replied Annie kindly
I suppose in this post Brexit era we will have to trade with whoever we can  find,Mary whisprered
I guess that principles are all very well but when it comes down to  recession and starvation that we will simply trade with anybody at all in the world even Mr Putin the Russian leader.
We’ve been trading with Russia for a long time  responded Annie. I think we get our gas from Russia.
Don’t you think  for us it’s foolish to become  dependent on getting  something so important from a country far away and were you not better off with coal fires with coal from our own Mines. here in Britain
It’s nice to have central heating but  if it means depending on the  the Russians or on countries in the Far East then we are playing  with hot coals.;to think  every time I make a cup of tea  the kettle is using gas from Russia why my ancestors would never believe that and they would have thought it was extremely stupid,I believe
It’s better to go into the woods and pick up some old pieces of wood or you could take  an old piece of furniture outside into the backyard and chop it up and use that to light the fire;you could burn rubbish on it as well .My mother used to like throwing  empty sugar bags on as the little bits of sugar remaining would cause the wood to  catch fire more rapidly then she would put some coal over the top and had a fire without spending very much money nor depending on places where we have no control over their politics and economics.
I wonder if Russia is taking anything from us?
God Only Knows let’s have a race .Shall we ring 999 twice and see which ambulance gets here first.?
I hope it will be Dave because he makes a very nice cup of tea and I have got some Yorkshire tea bags in the kitchen which would  make a   change ; I have also got some tea bread from Marks and Spencer’s
The doorbell rang it was a young man from down the street.
Hello  he said my name is Tom; my cat has just had kittens and I wondering whether you would like one of them when they’re old enough to leave their mother?
I don’t think so, said Mary. one cat is enough for me.  Emile Is a tom cat and he might get very jealous if I got another male cat and if I got a female cat he might want to have children.
What is wrong with that said Tom. after all that’s the way God made them
God made  deserts but it doesn’t mean that everybody’s got to live in them.
And so say all of us.

Now the sun has set, the sky is mauve

The sun looked angry when the dawn was due;
Its red more fiery,deepening scarlet hue.
The birds were singing though my heart loved Hugh.
All in all, I don’t know what to do.

The clouds betrayed the sun by turning grey.
Well, in  winter, who on earth makes hay?
The sun shone brighter as the earth it flayed
I can sell  my soul for money on Ebay.

The sun then disappeared to plot
How it can give us acne  like a shot.
And make our skin peel  like potatoes hot
All in all, I think I’ll tee a pot.

Now the sun has set, the sky is mauve
Tall trees stand  gravely in their gentle grove.
Where lovers meet and discuss when to rove
As for me, what woman is betrothed?

The sun looked calmer as  the day faded
It is now more  deep sea green than it is red
The birds are singing , seems they’re  feeling glad.
As for me,well better wed than dead!

Lyra has a bath and Stan entertains his mistress

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Stan was in the conservatory re-watering the cacti and sweeping the ceiling with a new broom.Mary his wife,[or so she claimed],was in the kitchen making cheese scones and bread for their afternoon tea.Their daughter Laura was taking a bath to wash all the blue raindrops from her hair.A peaceful Saturday scene in the Midland town of Knittingham.
Just out of the blue,the doorbell rang.It was Annie their widowed next door neighbour.She was wearing a long blue satin dress with a built in train.”I’m off to London now” she simpered.
“Can I give Lyra a lift in my train?”

“I believe unless I have strong disconfirmatory evidence, that my daughter is still in the bath.”Stan said defiantly.
Anne entered the house and ran upstairs.There she saw Lyra wrapped in a large blue towel like object.

“Is this a towel?” Lyra asked pertly

.”I have no evidence either way.”Annie announced.

“Where did you get it from?”

“That big blue window”replied the rosy blue cheeked girl ironically.”It may be a curtain”
“Oh,dear.Have I erred?” she pondered.
“No,you look very clean to me,though one can never be absolutely certain.” Anne said thoughtlessly.
“I suppose all one can do is to keep the dirt between certain parameters that each must decide for themselves.The Tudors only bathed once a year. And King Henry Vlllth founded the Church of England just so he could get a divorce from himself,not to mention a little gold too.”
Lyra worked for a publisher in Oxford Street,They were always on the look out for new titles and for money.
“Would you ever consider writing a blue self help book,Anne?”
“You can make a good deal of money that way.Self help is in Vogue now. I was thinking of:How to divorce yourself in three easy stages using self hypnosis.

We already have :How to found your own Church.” and “How to steal somebody else’s Church in three steps.”
Anne was keen to get an interest as since killing her husband for his money,she was feeling lonely,remote and schizoid, and her affair with Stan was proving a bit slower to take off than she had narcissistically expected.
“I am already a unqualified hypnotist.”she lied intensely.
Just then they heard a strange crash.Stan had been standing on his Habitat chair trying to eavesdrop on the women’s conversation,and it had fallen apart under the weight of his hiking boots.He lay on the carpet looking pale with blood running down his aged head.”Can you ring 999 please ?” he yelped .
Lyra looked at the chair.
“No,Dad it’s o.k.I can fix this with some U.H.U glue.I have some in my purple tote under all my medication.
She whispered saucily to Anne,
“I’ll text you tomorrow,my darling angel.Love the dress.”Lyra was a trans sexual lesbian paramedic you see,as well as a publisher’s clerk and also did not have other intriguing money making jobs into the bargainas the English say now and then.
Mary was in the kitchen finishing off her baking.She lived in a world of her own mainly focussed on her second hand Raleigh small wheeled shopper bicycle and its wicker basket that she bought in East Anglia or, to be exact,in Wells-next-the sea.It was now grey but still functional like many other towns in Britain and their inhabitants.She put the cheese scones and butter onto a large elliptical plate and went into the dining room followed by Emile her cat ,who was partial to a knob of butter on a Sunday teatime.
Where was his sister Emily he wondered?

Moses was an eruption

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Moses was an Eruption I hear.So he had to be kept warm in a basket.
Then Foureyes daughter let him gloat  down on the  River Nile…till a bull rushed him
He  was turned into a shrew and found God.. or God found him
But God would not let him find Galilee so he found Emilee ,Loelee and Phoeebilee instead.
He had many children such as Matthew,Hark,Look and Gone.They were all men and had more children with no wives. Adam did have Eve but  who did Cain and Abel marry? Eve?
Is this what Freud never realized… men used to marry their mothers and later their daughters who were also their sisters,Crikey,what a blunder
Blimey what is this Bible? Libel?
As we were taught in school Daniel lived with a lion and a lamb.I’m unsure if they had children…. it might explain a lot if they did.
And finally Solomon was very wise.It was easier then when there was no judge or jury to stop him cutting a baby in two… well, he was just pretending.
I say,the Shrews were very shrewd and clever.Like who told Adam and Eve what to do before Masters and Johnson wrote that book,Human Textual Despondency?
In any case Adam could not read.In fact they didn’t write either.And to think children here can write so young.Adam and Eve were a bit lacking but they have lots of family
Everybody on Earth… pity they are dead and can’t see us though God knows they’d be shocked if they saw our behaviour to our family

Elan brutal

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She was sweeter than money till she met him
He has plenty of elan brutal.
Where are the borders of prayer?
By whose Messiah was love preserved?
Toujours re-bless.
Dies prayer
A la printemps de l’annee je suis flosse.
A quicksand is no place to gather moss.
He said,Oh,No! Raaaa.
A passim a day keeps the Word at bay
He is bluish and almost unconscionable.
Je m’appelle la diva derider.
I think I aren’t.
Is he a psychowrath?
I write with a pin on my arm.
I love to watch bones knitting
Quelle est l’heure de la torte?
C’est le mort diable.Scriabin.
Tortelier,mon amour.
How the hell he spells so well noone can tell.
Roman’s nose I love beside the bally car
I think my destiny was to greet this occupation … a la quartz

Emile’s diary:why do humans have lips?

Emile’s musings

I’m sitting under the coffee table.By rights I should be given some cafe au lait in a traditional French style wide cup with a silver brim plus a matching saucer.I am shocked that Stan has never asked me to partake.I need a coffee break..it’s hard work spying all day!Why are humans so unaware?
I heard Anne talking on her mobile while Stan was looking for the graph paper.She must be talking to another woman…. she said she’s just bought some Revlon primer lotion to put under her light beige mousse foundation.Ye Gods, it sounds as if she’s painting the wall.She was moaning she can’t afford Lancome any more.Mousse foundation..that sounds tasty! She wants some heather coloured lipstick but she couldn’t find any.She’s put a new one on anyway and Stan came in to give his opinion:
Congratulations, Anne.You have found some lipstick that’s exactly the same colour as your own lips.She was mortified.I could see tears in her eyes but luckily she had her waterproof mascara and purple eyeshadow on.
Well, it makes me glad to be a cat…we have no need for skin products
and we have no lips as such.Why do humans have lips?
Is it mainly for kissing?
And perfume………we like the natural odours but I’ve never seen Stan go up and sniff Anne’s nether regions…though I admit I took a sniff and she smells very intriguing… probably some musk she’s bought.
I envy Stan in a way.Because I’d like to kiss Anne but my lips are too small….I could lick hers with my little raspy tongue!
Maybe if she falls asleep I’ll have a go.I love that woman so.
A cat may look at a king, but can he lick a lady’s lips?
Well, must go and take a walk around my territory and sniff out who’s about….face primer.What next.Paint stripper? What a waste of time and money.I could be chasing dandelion clocks round the garden”

May I feel it too?

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I am very self-absorbed.
Try using blotting paper  and stay dry

I fell into a reverie today
Did you get wet?

I was in a brown study all afternoon
Was it Gordon’s?

I  have made the world by my phantasies
Phantastic!

I  wonder if  a vibrator dries the washing.
No,it’s a maiden.
Mind your heads.
This is no the Tube you know.
Is it YouTube?
I have guessed, it’s an I tube.

My grandad had an outside lavatory till he died
Will there be indoor ones in heaven?
Crash
Grandad! You don’t open the back door in heaven.Was it not bolted?
You dug a  tunnel!You’re not a coal-miner anymore.
You want to go to Bethlehem? Through a tunnel? This is not the Holy Land.
You want to leave Gaza!How the hell did you get there?
On second thoughts, don’t tell me.
You were in Egypt?
You like pyramids!
I like men but I don’t build tunnels into their homes.
No,I build tunnels out!

I  have got more incontinent.
Do stop  admiring Europe

Why do the government tell us to eat more fruit and veg?
To help the Common Market!

Why do the government not have enough beds in hospitals?
They can’t all go to sleep at once!

I am feeling my age.
May I feel it too?

 

 

A night to remember

 
 
 

Stan was wearing his best suit topped by a denim apron polishing the big windows with a microfibre cloth as he waited breathlessly for his stunning wife.Mary entered the room wearing a long purple and mauve dress which clung somewhat tightly to the curvaceous contours of her beautifully rounded body.On her feet she had some smart pewter ballet slippers and in her elegant hand she carried a huge pewter clutch bag which contained some of her many medications.She addressed Stan,”I think I can leave my handbag behind if I put my mouth spray into my bra.”
“That somehow detracts from the romance of the evening.” Stan pronounced openly.~
“Well,you know, I never had a cleavage until lately and I felt I ought to make the most of it.”
“Surely I should be the one make the most of it,” he riposted jocosely.
“Of course you may.my angel, but not in the restaurant”  she answered back sweetly
“I’ll put your spray in my pocket then, shall I?”
Suddenly the doorbell rang.”Who’s this?”It was Annie, their next door neighbour. she was wearing a coral velvet track suit with matching Reeboks and sun hat .”Hi,I just came in with a little prezzie” She declaimed.In her hand was a huge box of chocolates..
“Gosh, Mary, you look lovely in that beautiful long dress but you’re not going on your bike, are you?”
“No, we are having a cab, but it’s not come as yet.”
“Well, never mind.I’ll ring 999 and get them to send an emergency ambulance for you!”
Fortunately, as luck would have it the minicab flew through the sky and it was only as they were entering the restaurant that Stan realised he was still wearing his old denim apron.
“Shall I take it off?” he pondered.
On the pro side ,I will look smarter ,on the con side ,I might spill some soup down my front.I wish I’d done more logic at college.So he kept it on.Mary didn’t seem to notice.She just took him for granted.
If he stood on his head and sang”Jerusalem” she probably wouldn’t pay any attention.
Then he noticed that Mary was wearing an apron too.It was the same colour as her dress.What a brilliant idea , he thought.”There may be money in this.” He could start a small business,”Aprons R You” selling lovely aprons in all colours of the rainbow.
Suddenly he heard noises ,he awoke and heard Mary shouting “How can you go to sleep when you are out with me?”
“Would you prefer me to recite the Periodic Table?” he snapped gently.
“I’d like a poem,” she cried…
All right, Petal, I’ll think of one soon.In the meantime would you like a fool?”
“No.I’ve got you,” she responded ungraciously.
“I mean for a pudding?”
“Oh , yes, please.A Rubik fool would be lovely.It will pass the time.You know I get so bored.”
“Well, I do my best but it’s hard keeping up with you.Would you like to read a few truth tables whilst I finish my meat.”
He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a small leather bound book.
“Truth tables and levitation for geniuses,” by Bertha Russell.
“OhStan , this looks interesting.I’ve always wanted to fly like an angel or an owl.”
“It’s never too late to say never.” he responded.
“Whatever do you mean?”
“I don’t know.Just because a sentence is grammatically correct doesn’t imply that it means something.”
“Yes, quite right.And conversely, a sentence can mean something even when it’s not grammatically correct.”
“Isn’t thinking exciting!”
“Yes, indeed.I was thinking how exciting it will be to go to bed with you.”
“Wow, good grammar and full of meaning.I am yours.I am like a ripe plum ready to drop off the tree.I am a cat ready to mate.I am a song waiting to be sung.”
“Gosh, are metaphors your bete noir?”
“Je ne parle pas Francais.”
“Aimez vous ein Nederlander?”
“Sprechen sie Deutsche?”
Ist sein mutter immer krank?”
And so they trotted off happily to bed like two pigs in clover, as Shakespeare might have said when drunk.

I found a new world wide web– of lies

firstfruitI found a new world wide web– of lies.
I found the internet spelt internment in the newspaper.And you don’t bother with a trial.If they pick you, that’s it,free, gratis and even water skiing.Or was it hoarding?Can one hoard water?
My bladder burst!
I said I was browsing the web, not buying a  wooden  head.
She just can’t get rejected as yet.Bee Tree and Yolk Yolk and Who’d a  phoned are all offering her big disc  counts
What’s a world wide web of fear? Don’t do anything, it’s  almost here.
I think I  have no feelings , none at all.I am just a box of bricks.
You could have over-ruled me at night.
Try Outernet, the extraverts internet.
Why not invent a new word? Is it a sin? No it’s a sim.
Why not sin with your sim?
Ring the White House and
ask for  mercy for the over -aged.
From the over-raged…..
it’s
doubt-rageous!

I have lost the internet.I am abashed

They say I have no connection the internet.Are some humans related to it?

doodlingThey say I have no connection the internet.Are some humans related to it?
I have lost the internet.Could it be in Lost Property?Can I borrow my neighbour’s?
I can’t get online.Why don’t they make it wider? so it would be on a double line.But then we couldn’t park…….you can’t win
You make me feel so rung.Please phone somebody else!
I had a Brief Encounter.My husbands pants fell down.I told him he had lost weight but he wouldn’t believe me.Now he will fit through the Eye on any Needle.Thank you, God.
Could Trump fit through the eye of an embroidery needle?
As my husband got thinner I got fatter.Is that fair?
I want to open a new blog but I have no money.Can I steal one?
Missing: Old blog in good condition.Micro-shipped.Rewards offered for anyone who returns it unchanged.
I sleep with my blog.Is it a sin?
The cat sleeps on my Kindle Fire because he doesn’t get it’s a metaphor.Cats!
At least I don’t leave my eyes on my i pad.They’re on the phone!
Well, they were.
No,I can’t come to work today.I have lost my eyes.

Dust balls

 darliCats on the hill
When yet another fluff ball is discovered
Hiding by the bookcase near my bed.
I ponder on the process which produces this
As I sit here gobbling a large boiled egg.
When yet another stain upon the carpet
Cannot be removed by water or by foam.
I wonder if I’m cut out for cleaning.
This is certainly not a man’s Ideal Home.
But let me not waste time on practicalities.
Life is far more precious than is dirt.
I’ll change my dress and put on a new outfit.
Or perhaps just wear a long white linen shirt.
When he comes home I’ll tell him I’m in love again.
With him who is my darling and my man.

We preferred the geometry of the spheres to dating boys when we were 16.

er mot15894378_1262728447118267_3232933242562958301_n

Mary has a dear friend who lives,alas , nowadays in northern Scotland. Clare moved back there when her mother became unable to manage at home. Then Clare developed very severe problems with her feet and legs and had been offered psychotherapy by the pain clinic.

After Mary had  been talking to Clare on the phone she thought to herself,
I wonder if I should speak to a therapist because I am still grieving for Stan and it’s possible therapy might be able to tell me whether what I’m feeling is normal or whether I am going round the bend.Mary found several counsellors near where she lived by looking on the Internet; she had interviewed five and decided on one called Margaret  Slipknot, Dr Slipknot had a room in a private hospital in the best road of the entire City.

Good morning, please take a seat over here, Margaret said to Mary.
Now you can tell me anything you like; it is completely confidential except that if you tell me you are going to kill somebody or commit suicide, I am obliged to tell your doctor or the police. Is that alright with you?

 Oh yes said Mary that seems very sensible because I understand the motivation behind it all knowing several widows ;they have mentioned that they didn’t want to go on living alone.But I did not tell their doctor or the police because sometimes everybody feels like that and once they realise it they are quite happy, in a sense.They can accept it.

I have got a very good friend next door call Anny and I know many colleagues at the university but since my husband died I feel as if there is a void at the centre of my being and whatever I do will not fill it.

 Margaret. said, Perhaps this void has a role to play in your life.
What kind of role could a void have?.Mary gasped
Just say whatever comes to your mind.
A void is not something that people talk about very much and I’m not sure if it’s just the right word to describe  what  I am  sensingb ut it is more than just a little emptiness. Stan used to make my dinner every night when I came home from the University and he also used to feed the cat and put the rubbish out not to mention listening to my thoughts about what happened to me while I was at work ,  and all the people that I have met. So when I come home now feeling weary and tired I have to make my own dinner.
And do you make you dinner?
Not always. you see when Stan was alive I had a certain motivation to be a good and loving wife. I used to do a lot of planning to make sure that, even though he was going to do the cooking, that there were all the required ingredients in the cupboard plus also spices and herbs and garlic. I realise now that I have not bought any garlic for the past year.

People don’t usually come to see me just because they have not bought any garlic lately.

When Mary heard the word lately she began to cry because late is a word used to denote people who are dead like the late Prime Minister, Winston Churchill.

I see that you are still feeling sad and there’s nothing wrong with that but I am a little concerned about how you will cope with all your new responsibilities as well as continuing your work and life with students, Which all the things you mentioned about your husband do you miss the most?

I think the thing I’m missing him most for is putting out the rubbish. He always insisted on doing this even when he was very ill and I find it hard to remember to do it when I never did it before.It seems to me that a woman needs a man to put out the wheelie bins out and collect big cardboard boxes which need crushing.I feel bad putting the wheelies out by myself in the dark.
That doesn’t seem very nice, Margaret cried , that you only miss your husband because you have to put out the rubbish now yourself. I know that I’m not meant to give you advice.I want to listen to you but I cannot really believe that the main thing that you miss him for is this.
Well said Mary, don’t push me; this is the first session we’ve had and I am still testing the water.
In other words don’t you realise that I’m not going to tell you the most sacred aspects of my being until I feel like I can trust you I’m not implying that you are and irresponsible,  foolish person, but don’t you think after working for 20 years as a psychotherapist that you should know that even in normal life we don’t tell someone we’ve never met before the very intimate and secret aspects of our being. There are some people who do this  t but hen they are not taking into account the person who they are speaking to, who they have never met before.Except people do it on trains.

I see, said Margaret. I will wait until you feel able to tell me what you miss the most. I don’t suppose it’s sex because you are much too old for that, although that is one way that some people fill in a void.

Do you think that women feel that their womb is an empty space inside them and wish to put something into it, asked Mary

Everybody’s different; now even  if you have sex it won’t fill your womb now as already mentioned I think you are too old to have sex.
Mary felt very angry,
How dare you say I am too old to have sex. Stan used to teach classes of pensioners about statistics and other topics and he told me that many of them said that they were still involved in a sexual relationship.Now we don’t know how far they would go  in that way.I thought that therapists were not meant to make judgements about what their clients say to them.Are you really a trained psychotherapist? You must be earning a lot of money to rent this room in a private hospital and as far as I can see you do not seem to have any common sense, let alone uncommon sense.
Margaret’s face went bright red,
I am sorry she cried, I was a little bit nervous when you told me that you were a mathematician And it threw me off my stride because I thought that you might be more intelligent than I am.
Intelligence by itself is not good  enough;it can be used to make nuclear bombs; to start Wars ;to gather information about your enemies what you really need  is  time and care and the ability to listen without criticism or judgement for the person who is with you ;you must have met some other people who were quite intelligent .It seems to me that you need more Training so that you are able to deal with your issues of fear of the highly intelligent person. You don’t need to have a fear of them and we are just the same as other people except that for some reason we preferred the geometry of the spheres to dating boys when we were 16.

In my case, it was after I had an operation to remove my appendix and was convalescing for several weeks. I came across a book called “Mathematician’s delight” by W.W.Sawyer And I read it about imaginary numbers and complex numbers so then I realised that mathematics was not just arithmetic and quadratic equations.I don’t know whether I will come to see you anymore. What you said has taken away my faith in my judgement of people. You seemed the best therapist that I interviewed but now we’re started I think I might have made a mistake.
Please don’t stop, said Margaret, I need the money.
So you think that I should continue seeing you here when you already proved yourself inadequate, merely to give you money. I am afraid I am not rich enough  to see you if I will have to see somebody else as well, as you are no good
I’ll tell you what said Margaret, let me give you another session completely free and see how we get on then .If you are still unhappy with me then, of course, you must find a different person. I realise my training was incomplete because we are all graduates or doctors and then we do five years training so we believe we are superior to most of the people who come for treatment but when I speak to my supervisor I will tell her that I think we all need to look at this question of superiority because neither you nor I  is actually morally or ethically superior to everybody else ;it can sometimes appear that we can see somebody is very inferior morally like  Hitler or Pol Pot
I’ll give you a call , Mary said when I have made my mind up; it is very kind of you to offer me a free session when you are so short of money. iI I were your  therapist, I would tell you that you were short of money because you are not very good at your job and therefore you will not have enough patients to make a living .On the other hand, it may be that you need to take an extra job . stacking the shelves in the supermarket to give you enough money to live on without exploiting human beings like myself. However, I am glad that I realised that I feel this  void inside me because I now realise that I felt it long before my husband died and it must be linked to something else in my life, not just to him

Alright, said Margaret thank you very much for being so honest I hope you will come again.If  not, I wish you good luck in finding someone who can travel with you on your journey into your new life.Thank you, said Mary. I will phone you soon, goodbye .
When she got home she told Emile.He said he wished he had gone with her to see how beautiful Margaret was.
That is very selfish, Emile.You need to hear what she says!

I asked the nurse to give to me her food

Oh evil chance,  one day this week I fell

They  sent  me to thehospital , such fun!

I saw the lovely  nurses in the hall

And hoped they would not send me to the bin

 

The x-ray of my  hand  caused horrid pain

The curled up finger straightened with a push

And this impacted me, my body and my brain

And on my face , it caused a  curious flush

 

There is no obvious fracture to be seen

They reckon it’s a tendon that is stuck

It’s rather difficult pulling up my jeans

What goddess  has given me such luck

 

The snow down fell , the  wind was fierce and  cold

The weather matched the Misery of my moods

But when I had some coffee I felt bold.

I asked the nurse  to give to me her food



I  truly enjoyed going out today

And now I’ll sell my memoirs on E -bray

 

When I did this using the microphone it came up with some very rude words.Of course,  the computer does not know that they  are rude,I suppose!

It runs in the family

Oh,yes,I do lovely handwriting

Just like my dad.

It runs in the family

And I like chip sandwiches with butter

It runs in the family.

No, I can’t do cryptic crosswords.

Or enigmatic looks.

It runs not in the family.

I read too many clever books

Instead of earning money.

It just runs in the family.

Yes, we are all music freaks.

We listen to Schubert and Schoenberg all night.

It runs in the family.

We are all impolite.

But we can’t help it cos

It runs in the family.

Yes, we all use four letter words,

It’s a free country, besides,

It runs in the family!

And no we can’t write poetry, you see

Writing doesn’t run in my family.

But, we all practice monogamy,

So far, though, unsuccessfully,because

Adultery runs in the family.

Which puts a slightly different complexion on the phrase

“It runs in the family”

But, alas, all of my ancestors are dead.

It runs in the family!

Ode to a lightbulb

dscf0039
Oh, light bulb foreseen by our God
Save us all from darkness’ rod.
You are our Saviour as foretold,
In prophecy by ancients bold.
We will worship you at night
When sunken is the sun so bright.
We’ll watch TV and Kindle fire
No more to play shall we aspire.
We’ll wear ourselves out watching screens,
As from a can we eat baked beans
We’ll send for pizzas with our phones
With which we never feel alone.
We might talk to our partner dear
Though to text is easier.
We see the neon street lights gleam
Where once we saw the moon’s cold beams
And in bed ,we read our books
With a kindle or a nook
We put beneath out pillows fair
i phones which we long to hear.
Can one have too much new light?
From technology some take flight
For gone are seasons, and their fruit
As our computer we reboot.
New potatoes all year round
Avocados once quite rare
Now are seem ‘most everywhere.
Melons, grapes and fresh green peas
As the birds sing, life’s a breeze.
Oh light bulbs, fluorescent tubes
Electric candle, light is cubed.
We thank you for extended days
Maybe we’ll find time for prayers.
God is great in mystery
No light bulb can help us see.
In silence, darkness, meditate
Wonder what will be our fate.
As retribution for our wrong
Satan stabs us with his prongs
He needs no more light in hell
The fiery furnace cooks as well.

Typos

nz_paradiseshelduck
Happy New Leer
Hippy New Flair
Happy, Loo near!
Aptly New Here.
Hoppy knew Fear
Happy New Beer
Happy with Lear?
Snappy New Year

Cherry Xmas
Very Xmas to view.
Make the post of it.
Hope to flee you soon.
Sorry I’ve not been in much.
Sorry not to sweep my promises.
Sorry I didn’t come but you didn’t  either.
We must beat this year.
Let’s get together.Amen.
I’ll see you at the Creator.
I  didn’t employ the cow we had.

He lies on the sofa.

 1238

I have told my husband to stand on his own head in future.Is this wise?

No, get him to stand on his own feet. Upright posture is usual in the UK

He has stood on my nail

Buy a few more.

He has stood me up.

That’s the way he likes it?

Now he rests on his laurels daily.

Go out and buy a bay tree.

He stood on my thumb.

Don’t keep leaving it on the floor.

He stood on my hat.

Oh, for heaven’s sake, buy some armchairs.

He lies on the sofa.

Will he tell the truth on the table?

I used to teach truth tables.

Now teach humans about truth.

I can’t stand logic.

Come on, be reasonable.

I can’t lie in bed anymore.

Why would you lie in bed? Is it easier than when vertical?

Even the cat walks all over me.

Fasten loofahs to his feet.

I can’t stand up for myself

Stand up for those who love you.

Those what who love me?

Ducks.As the Lord loves them.

I can’t sleep for laughing.

Don’t get hysteria.

I can’t walk all over anyone now.

Just walk on the top side of them.

I can’t keep a man.

Let him keep you.

I believe in love.

So did we all.

Hello Mary Dirac-Brown, he responded instantly

img_0099

Mary was going out for a meal with some former colleagues who had taught under functioning analysis and triquacking theory.She stood in her bedroom, surrounded by piles of clothes, wondering how hot the restaurant might be and how cold and frosty the air in the road by the bus stop.
I think I’ll phone Pete she told herself.
Pete answered on the first ring.After so many years, she still recognised his semi- South African accent and pleasing voice
Hello,it’s Mary Dirac-Brown hers, she said shyly.
Hello Mary Dirac-Brown, he responded instantly
Why, he sounds like the Amazon website, she thought to herself.That figures!
Hello Pete, I was wondering if you could give me a lift to the restaurant tonight
You don’t need a lift, it’s on the ground floor, he informed her quietly and sensitively
I mean in your car.I can’t drive now.
Why not?
Actually, I never took the Test because I always drove very fast
Why didn’t you use the brakes? he teased her.I reckon you might have passed.
I stopped the car and vowed never to drive again but now it is a problem with Stan  dead etc
Well, what time do you suggest? Shall I come earlier?
Why does he say that ,she pondered
No, it will take ages to put  all my clothes away.I can’t make up my mind what to wear.
Why not just copy Hilary Clinton?
I must not buy any more clothes.Shall I dress smartly? Or smart casual or unsmart?
I know, said Pete.Shut your eyes and pick up 3 things off the bed and then wear those.
Mary closed her eyes.When she opened them she had a pair of Arran legwarmers, a green silk shirt and a black pleated silk skirt.
I suppose if I wear my new long camel coat, the leg warmers will be hidden, she whispered.She took a bottle of dandruff shampoo and washed her light gold locks and then waxed her bikini line by mistake.
My goodness,  why and how did I ever think of doing that, she pondered ruefully?And in the winter who wears a bikini?
Dressed in her pure silk outfit, the legwarmers hidden under thigh high red leather boots, she created a buzz in the restaurant as she climbed in through the window followed by Pete in his yellow wool suit and green tie.
Why did you come in via the window, asked Tom McDonne, the former head of  her maths department.
We didn’t see any doors, she cried gaily.And Mossad wants more women agents so I thought MI5 might like to see me.
Who is this Mossad, Tom asked?
It’s the Israeli intelligence service.You must have heard of them.
But they don’t want old people! Tom told her ignorantly
That’s why we came through the window, so if any spies are here they will see how agile I am still.And I still know what uncountable infinity is.Aleph, aleph.
Tom led them to a  long table.
Wow, it’s a log table Mary screamed.I’ve not seen one for years.
Well, with computers and such like we don’t really need them anymore, Tom revealed.
Are they real logs, she queried.
No, they are vinyl, the waiter admitted furtively.Easier to wash
Mother never washed my log tables, Mary told the men impudently.
Let’s order some food, Tom said, as they all sat down
I fancy the Polish Hussar Roast,  he admitted.
What has a Polish Hussar ever done to you, Mary asked?
Nothing yet but I live in hope
And so do all of us.

To be continued

I shall never stir my tea with bones.

Oh, mug, so noble, men might worship you
You hold a pint of Earl Grey Tea with milk.
That’s more than I can fit inside my shoe.
The very notion makes my body wilt.

From Amazon, you traveled all alone
Until I took you to my heart complete.
I shall never stir my tea with bones.
Not shall I  for my writing press, delete.

I drink a pint of tea when dawn arrives
I dream of broken teeth and opiate drugs.
But when I waken, I am still alive
And to an opiate, prefer a mug.

Yet has my life been abstinent and harsh?
Still my mouth can never , now,  be parched!

Well, fuzzy logic is not so hard, Mary whispered.

tree-of-life

Annie Laughton, neighbor of Mary Brown, widow of Stan , the  almost world famous logician, came out of her oak-panelled front door deliberating over whether her teal color 7/8  length wool coat was the best one for her to wear in the frosty smog covering Knittingham and the River Quaint.[Now breathe]
She decided a full-length raspberry maxi coat would be wiser however she did not take her own advice but wandered next door, to see what Mary was doing.
Mary was reading some book reviews.
There is a new type of illness, she told Anne.
Almost flu.almost depression, almost measles……almost happy.

[Almost happy: Is My (or My Loved One’s)happiness a Problem (The Almost Effect)?]
p1000383


Surely you either have measles or not, Annie mumbled.
Not so, Mary answered.That is Aristotelian logic; nowadays we use fuzzy logic.It’s a degree of indefiniteness or its opposite……….get it?
This is why Trump got elected, Annie cried.
We want it simpler.apart from Leonard Cohen who wanted it darker and so it has been for him.

Well, fuzzy logic is not so hard, Mary whispered.
Any logic is hard, Annie replied. Prehistoric man had no logic and look at us now.Are we happier?Or we wiser? 
You seem a bit moody, Mary told her.By the way, I love your new coat.Where did you get it from?
I stole it from the cloakroom at the Cricket Club, Annie teased her
Are you not worried the owner will see you? said Mary anxiously.
No, it was in Newcastle under Lyme!  Annie cried
But it is still both a crime and a sin.Mary retorted logically
Actually, I got it from Lands End, Annie said triumphantly.They had a big sale on.Because it was a warm autumn.It was only £6,788.09.
My, that’s cheap, said Mary.Once you could buy a house for that much.
My pension is £189 a week so how long will it take me to pay off the credit card? Annie wondered.
If we ignore interest and assume you pay £100 a week it will be 16788/100 which is about  168 weeks or 3 years.Can you live on £89 a week for 3 years?
No, I knew I should have stolen a new coat but I lost my nerve.
I am still wearing my old clothes, Mary boasted.
Yes, I  can see all the moth holes, Annie screamed humorously.Your darning is pathetic
I know, Mary said.Stan was good at darning.
Well, he can’t do it now, Annie informed her logically.Well. he might darn God’s tablecloth but not your skirts and jumpers.
God’s tablecloth is perfect, said Mary.It lasts for eternity unlike our clothes
Are we going out?It looks so cold.Why don’t we stay in and teach Emile to thread a needle?Annie pondered
Do you believe that a cat could ever learn that? Mary cried.
O ye of little faith, cried Annie.With God all things are possible.
Your argument has only one flaw, Mary cried.We are not God.
And so say all of us

I shall cook my meals on candle wicks.

No nonstick pan shall grace my hob again
For, since my lover died, I have burned six
And, despairing of the love of  any  man,
I shall cook  imagined meals on candle wicks.

In short, I tell you I shall eat no food.
I’ll live on seeds of grass and flowers sweet.
My friends think my  starvation’s rather crude
They counsel me to eat grass snakes and newts.

I burned these pans because I am bereaved.
My mind was on my husband’s late, lost face
If I had been much faster to retrieve,
I should have saved the  pans  and not replaced

So shall I take my cooker at the dump,
And live on dandelions, which nothing trump?