Struggling for Humour.

I’ve long since decided that the silly posts are infinitely preferable to the serious ones, but I can’t think of anything silly to say at the moment. Life seems to be mostly taken up with book-keeping and gardening, neither of which occupations lends itself to humour.

We do have two new llamas in the village, though: a pair if white ones which live in a paddock down one of the lesser-frequented lanes. One is laid back and spends it time lazing about, while the other stands and stares at me in that intense and superior way that is typical of llamas. It’s vaguely funny at the time, but quite indescribable.

So have another picture of me as a kid by way of inadequate compensation. I always thought it was an example of my dad teaching me to be a good American because I thought the object I was holding in my left hand was a gun. Having zoomed it on the scanner, I now see that it was a pipe, and my dad appears to be holding a child sized ice cream. No doubt the scenario went something like:

‘C’mon, Stan, give little Jeffrey your pipe and you hold his ice cream, then people will think he’s really grown up and that’ll be funny, won’t it?’

Oh well, I suppose it’s humour of a sort. And I wonder where they got the second hand car from. No other kid had a car like that. I seem to recall that nearly everything I had was either home made by my mother or second hand, which I suppose is also mildly amusing.

Note my intense and superior stare. Frown lines (and llama connections) in the making.