Tag Archives: #vss

The Comment heading towards the planet Earth at upwards of a thousand miles per second

The Comment, similar in size and shape to the one that ended the era of the Dinosaurs, headed towards the planet Earth at a considerable speed; and, even though sound can’t actually travel through space – as it’s a void – you must just suspend your disbelief for a moment and consider that science has got it wrong (even though it hasn’t) and this concept is a possibility.

What the actual Comment consists of is not known – largely due to the absence of detail available – and so it will inevitably disappoint.

Isn’t Science wonderful?

Rock-Hopper Penguin, Paper Tiger, Scissortail Rasbora!

Well, to decide whose go it is…

let’s use a tried and trusted method:

‘Rock-Hopper Penguin, Paper Tiger, Sciissortail Rasbora’.

How is it done?

Well … both parties have to shake their clenched fist up and down three times, finally opening their hand in the shape of a Rockhopper Penguin, Paper Tiger, or Scissortail Rasbora.

And, as everyone knows, a Rockhopper Penguin beats a Scissortail Rasbora, but is beaten by a Paper Tiger; and a Paper Tiger is beaten by a Scissortail Rasbora.

Who ever wins … is the winner.

Obviously.

boBob and boBeep May be going to the Moon – Revisited.

boBeep: Hello, boBob!

boBob: Hello, boBeep!

boBeep: Where are you going to in such a hurry?

boBob: I am going to the Moon!

boBeep: The Moon?

boBob: Yes, The Moon!

boBeep: How are you getting to the Moon?

boBob: I’ve got a ticket!

boBeep: A ticket?

boBob: Yes! A ticket to the Moon.

boBeep: Oh… I’d like a ticket to the Moon.

boBob: I’ve got a spare one.

boBeep: A spare one? A spare ticket to the Moon?

boBob: Yes. I had a voucher for a BOGOF offer.

boBeep: A ‘BOGOF’ offer? For a ticket to the Moon?

boBob: Yes. I bought one ticket for the Moon, and they gave me another ticket for the Moon free.

boBeep: Free? A free ticket for the Moon?

BoBob: Well, I had to buy the first ticket, so not really ‘free’.

boBeep: Oh. How much was ‘your’ ticket?

boBob: My ticket was free.

boBeep: So, my ticket would have been at the same price?

boBob; You wish.


NB any similarities between Eccles and Bluebottle are purely of my own fault. G:)

Tickled onions and tickled beetroot

I like tickling onions,

and also tickling beetroot –

perhaps it’s just me

Unreliable Witness – #SoCS

‘SoCS’ Prompt: Black, Gray, or White – unreliable witness. As posted by Linda G Hill

See here for Linda’s site

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): So, madam, what colour was the vehicle that you saw leaving the vicinity of the area of Whom Manor at about, or just before, or even just after 11, 12, or 1’ o’Clock on the day in question?

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): So, it was Black, Grey, or White? Can you be a little more specific? No. Okay, it was Black, Grey, or White, and being driven by …

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Well, I stopped there hoping that you would fill in the details.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Well – Man, Woman, Girl, Boy, Other.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): ‘Yes’ is not helpful, Madam. If you could narrow it down it would be most helpful.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Not ‘other’. Yes, that does narrow it down somewhat. We have ascertained that it was a Man, Woman, Girl, or a Boy, driving a Black, Grey, or White vehicle.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Not a vehicle? Ah, we are getting somewhere now.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): It was a ‘Motor Car’. A Black, Grey, or White Motor Car.

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): And in which direction was it going?

DCI Syd (ex of the Yard): Forwards. It would be, wouldn’t it.

Fred, the dead Red Squirrel, sighed

Fred, the dead Red Squirrel, sighed,

‘The last time I died …’ he said,

I was wearing red.

‘And, this time, too …

perhaps, next time, I should

be wearing blue.

Day 2: Wise Guide? Voice?

Do you have a wise guide?

A voice of steadiness in the storm?’

—//—

We had been adrift for many a day, huddled together for warmth in the cruel sanctuary of the lifeboat. The ice-rimed water that lapped about our feet was also what kept us alive, and threatened to end our travails, for the rains had been heavy for some three nights in a row. Luckily, the days had been the opposite, dry, if not warm, and allowing us to keep on top of the fine line between surviving, and diving forsakenly into the unforgiving ocean.

We had, it should be written, lost a few souls from our ensemble – they tended to leap at night when the fear became its worst – and had now, seemingly, settled upon a fixed number, with a fixed routine, and a fixed determination to at least try to survive our ‘peril upon the sea’.

But, in the darkness there was a light.

The light that shone for us was Pastor Tom, he spoke with a sage wiseness that filled our hearts with a glad warmth, and our minds with the hope of an attainable salvation. The trouble was, when he stopped speaking the darkness slowly began to creep back into our beings. The longer our trial lasted, the harder it must have been for him to stir us, for us to be stirred; and the easier it was for the feral black sea-dogs to bark mockingly at our weakenings.

When the real storm hit us, our fears at its powerful effects were realised. We had truly hoped that we should miss it, or it us; but, that scenario was not to be. Ee were adrift in an open lifeboat, hungry, sodden from exposure to the elements, and not knowing if this task was to be one task too many.

Pastor Tom raised his voice and fiercely abraded the storm with commands that it should abate, cease, desist.

He encouraged us to hold tight to our convictions, our dreams of reaching the safety of dry land, and to hold on even more tightly to the ropes that kept us in place upon this week and fragile vessel.

His voice kept us alive.

When the storm passed, an event barely noted, we, as one, said a prayer to whatever god we served, and let out a combined sigh of relief. Pastor Tom had got us through the storm, we would be saved, all would end well.

But, Pastor Tom, was no longer standing at the bow of the craft. He wasn’t within the lifeboat at all. He wasn’t with us in the shape of a person, but we could still feel his care and his love for us.

We did make land. Our bodies and our minds unalterably changed from our experiences. Our lives continuing, free to follow paths unthought of. But all of us carried Pastor Tom with us, for without him we would have perished.

No trace was ever found of Pastor Tom’s body. Perhaps the sea had claims upon it, or perhaps it washed up on a shore in some far off land. Maybe the fishes nibbled gently at his essence until he swam the oceans in the guise of a thousand true seafarers.

No trace of Pastor Tom was found in the records of the parish where he said that he preached. Only ‘I’ found this out.

‘When he was needed he was there; when he needed others, most turned away.’

Temp Ted

Ted was a Temp. Temp being short for ‘temporary’, and Ted was short for Edward. Ted was also short if and when compared to people taller than himself – five feet tall. Ted only had two feet both of which were perfectly in proportion to the rest of his body – being neither too small, nor too large.

Ted was working in Woking in the office of a multi-notional think tank. Or, at least, he thought he was.

He was tempted to leave there; but, he was not a tall self-confident.

Oblique House

Charles Dickens was once said to have said,

‘Thank you for my meal, Catherine.’

However, this was not

what

he is remembered for.

Bleak House, one of his finest novels,

originally serialised in 1852/3,

tells a tale – as do all the rest

of his works –

and is of matters that matter.

There is a lot of legal jargon and

Inspector Bucket is brought in to investigate.

There may be more; but, perhaps,

you should read it and find out if that is the case.

Uther Pendragon Kellaly

Uther Pendragon Kellaly,

father of Arthur …

and the inventor

of tiny little guitars …