Ten years ago I was writing several blogs on various subjects - F1 motor racing, Music, Classic Cars, Great Romances and, most crushingly, a personal journal that included my thoughts on America, memories of England and Africa, opinion, humour, writing and anything else that occurred. It all became too much (I was attempting to update the journal every day) and I collapsed, exhausted and thoroughly disillusioned in the end.
So this blog is indeed a Toe in the Water, a place to document my thoughts in and on WdC but with a determination not to get sucked into the blog whirlpool ever again. Here's hoping.
In deference to the pill, I believe most meds have a coating on them. Perhaps some pill manufacturer might consider making that coating a candy one, thus putting it on the same level as the M&M.
If you use your floor as a table, then perhaps enjoying the M&M after taking the pill might be possible, but, if the floor isn't a table then perhaps it is a mysterious road to a mystical [place you might not want to enter and therefore perhaps ingesting anything off of the floor is a no no.
We don't have a five-second rule; we have a Max and a Bellah. Any food item that hits the floor belongs to whichever gets to it first. Of course, they do wait until they are told they can gobble it up since not all items that hit the floor are canine-friendly.
Seeing as I wouldn't have eaten the M&M since it rolled under a desk, I'd be more happy at finding the pill. As far as if I'd take the pill or not depends on what type of pill it is and how many of said pill I have.
A few days ago, Andrea and I had a conversation ending in speculation on what Shakespeare would sound like in Australian (Strine). Just try speaking Hamlet’s famous soliloquy in your best Ozzie impression and you’ll understand why we found the idea amusing. And that’s in spite of admitting that it’s entirely possible that Strine may be pretty close to how the Bard himself would have spoken. Much of the English spoken in former colonies has preserved some of the speech patterns of earlier ages.
But the matter reminded me powerfully of something that was reported during my time in southern Africa. It seems that the play, Hamlet, was translated into Afrikaans and then staged in some posh theatre or other, probably in Johannesburg. All was going along swimmingly until the following line was proclaimed:
“Omlet, Omlet, Ek is jou papa se spook!”
The audience collapsed in uncontrollable laughter.
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