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punchlines and tyramines
Jun. 1st, 2012 10:19 amwhat a thing is the joy that a postbag can bring;
therefore and without ado, my response to being asked if i would consider volunteering as a neurological test subject, given my oft touted (i.e. under souled) interest in the science of the neurals, is this:
... he came back from the Cantab research centre with the head of a gorilla and the body of a sea urchin. "I'm perfectly comfortable, thank you..." he replied as we lowered him into his rock pool with a copy of the Times, he was fond of crosswords, "...only head-butting the crabs is so wretched tiresome."
elsewise, whilst some have remained silent on the topic (by 'some', of course, i mean most everybody) one or two unwise urchlings have requested the punchline to my Thought for Food entry earlier - especially in regard to Sauerkraut and its noted benefits.
weeeeell...
( under the lining we go... )
therefore and without ado, my response to being asked if i would consider volunteering as a neurological test subject, given my oft touted (i.e. under souled) interest in the science of the neurals, is this:
... he came back from the Cantab research centre with the head of a gorilla and the body of a sea urchin. "I'm perfectly comfortable, thank you..." he replied as we lowered him into his rock pool with a copy of the Times, he was fond of crosswords, "...only head-butting the crabs is so wretched tiresome."
elsewise, whilst some have remained silent on the topic (by 'some', of course, i mean most everybody) one or two unwise urchlings have requested the punchline to my Thought for Food entry earlier - especially in regard to Sauerkraut and its noted benefits.
weeeeell...
( under the lining we go... )
thought for food
Apr. 15th, 2012 09:14 pmToday was an unexpected adventure into the realms of food...
Incident at Victoria Sponge:
Trawling the Sunday markets i spied a copy of the BBC 1981 Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde on dvd which i greedily snapped up (David Hemmings – mixed reviews, i care not a jot). Naturally the contemplation of Stevenson’s classic of unrepressed appetites took me off in search of cake.
The cake in question (i.e. the one that had my name upon it and which, just to make sure, was winking at me from the silver dish) was a ginagantic slab of Victoria Sponge, big is such a small word sometimes.
In which the Plot thickens – or possibly ferments!
