Ye gods! A glimmer of sunshine and Auntie P is serving up the grub in shades and three pairs of Bermuda shorts. We've not been spared the ghastly garnish for a week now, irrespective of the dish concerned. Fish fingers, macaroni cheese even her latest unholy concoction, "liver goujons" (essentially the bits left after her ill-tempered removal of the gristly tubes) all festooned in greenery.
Mordecai quipped that if we were subjected to Szechuan faggots & Laverbread it would be accompanied by half a tomato and a dollop of Aldi mayonnaise. I told him not to give her ideas. Anyway, as it appears we are rapidly reverting to winter, we will no doubt soon be feasting on turkey fritters and ancient mince pies.
Madam's swearing is catching up with Uncle Lucas's legendary Cambrian cursing. I reckon she is miffed at being passed over for the Eurovision gig in favour of Bonnie Tyler. Perhaps the rest of us should show solidarity by gatecrashing the event - literally - in Y Nauci 14, all weapons blazing.
Groida has given up the semaphore but is now speaking in rhyming couplets. Bloody show-off. I believe pulling off a major stunt will get us all working together again as a team, so I'll put on me thinking cap (i.e. lucky antennae socks) and dream up some escapade ...
Back to you soon, if I don't overdose on Rennies. Keep the faith!
I remember those socks, didn't they have red and white stripes? I'm quite impressed that Groida can converse in rhyming couplets. I think we should see a sing-off with Bonnie versus Auntie P.
ReplyDeleteYou are quite correct about the socks, young lady. They are me "lucky" ones because every time I have worn them as pennants in a raid, it has gone well. I don't think Groida should really be encouraged, do you? I like the idea of the sing-off, though. Perfect cover and a distraction during a surprise attack. Hehehe!
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