Saturday, 22 August 2015

Post-Nightmare Discoveries.

Having recovered from seeing myself on the screen being uncharacteristically reticent when approached by a young French woman, I subsequently made two discoveries which refreshed the matrix:

1. Slugs like rolled oats. There was one on the windowsill outside the back door gorging itself on the stuff intended for the birds. I thought of giving it a home as a pet, but decided against it because I realised that you can’t really stroke a slug, you can only wipe the slime off. And that would be a bit like picking your nose when you’ve got a cold.

2. Fosters lager doesn’t taste of anything at all. Really. Nothing. I only bought it because it was cheaper than St Cervois, and now I know why. Maybe it’s because it’s brewed in Melbourne. And could there be any other place on earth where they would put beer (so called) in a plastic bottle? Maybe it’s because they sell it in Sydney.

No comments: