Bits of Oddness.

Sixteen weeks since the operation and I’m still terribly picky about what sort of food I want. Tonight’s supper was a can of John Smith’s Extra Smooth beer and a piece of toast and marmalade. They’re both good in their own way but don’t exactly match.

I’m trying to replace the missing muscle mass on my arms, chest and shoulders, you see, and I’m not having much success. I’ll try opening the scotch bottle next and see whether that works.

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And on the subject of oddness, you might want to take a look at this Russian woman performing a traditional Irish folk song:

 

Pretty weird, eh, but she’s actually bloody brilliant. And what a presence. I wonder whether they’ve got any more like her in Russia – might be worth nipping over there to have a look while Putin’s in Helsinki teaching Trump the secrets of diplomacy. Shouldn't take long. I mean, Russia’s not very big, is it?

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And now we’re into questionable geography, here’s a little ditty which I first posted several years ago when different people were reading. It can’t be called cheating because this is a portmanteau post.

There was a woman from Baghdad

Whose compass skills were pretty bad

She sailed one day for Mandalay

But ended up in Trinidad