I don’t love bacon. And I don’t have a husband, or a wife, but I did love this post by 23thorns, so it is this week’s reblog 🙂


I’ve got myself into trouble again. I wrote a poem the other day about bank queues. It was silly. My wife saw it, and instead of smiling because it was silly, she decided that I was not nearly romantic enough, and would be writing her a love poem. I can’t do that. You see, I do not love my wife.

They say that the Eskimos have over a hundred different words for snow. I love the idea, and was devastated the other day to learn that they don’t. They have one.

If you really want a rich and varied language, you have to turn to English. This has something to do with the fact that they call their home the green and pleasant land. Apparently everyone who ever saw it thought “this is pleasant! And green!” and proceeded to invade the crap out of it.

Over the course of history…

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