Saturday, 7 April 2012

Notes in the Wee Small Hours.

Ever since we had the bad weather the other day, my internet has been painfully slow. I wonder whether that trip down south didn’t stand the strain and the Wichita lineman is still on the line.

I finally got around to writing a Ditty for Miss Bella but I fear it might cause her consternation, so it’s been shelved.

The cock pheasant that’s decided my garden is his kingdom gets very belligerent when I tell him it isn’t.

The ad for the Muslim dating site has some very beautiful ladies on it. And it doesn’t shake, wobble, flash or cascade. So that one can stay. Not that I’m in the market, you understand.

It seems to me that the advertising revenue available to TV companies is now so thinly spread among the plethora of channels that nobody can afford to make decent programmes any more.

David Cameron’s popularity among voters is plummeting. Do I feel another ‘I told you so’ coming on?

If you don’t know who you are, how can you possibly know what you want? Life!

Stress usually has more to do with an individual's genetic imprinting and environmental conditioning than it does with the apparent cause. And I believe past life memory to be part of environmental conditioning.

Why are grandparents important? Mine weren’t.

My alcohol tolerance is low tonight. I think I should go to bed early. Night.

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