Duck Life

After the oppressive summer heat comes the cooling summer rains, and Bristol recaptures its fresh and pleasant vibe.  The muddy waters in ponds and rivers rise once more to habitable levels and happy ducks splash about and quack their approval. As I crossed Totterdown Bridge over the River Avon I swear I saw a paddling of ducks (correct collective noun, look it up) form a happy face emoji just for me.  But that might just be my medication.  The other day I thought the Asda delivery man was Elvis. And yes I might have been a bit too insistent (asking to see his birth certificate was a Donald Trump-sized mistake, I now admit), but he really did look a lot like an elderly King of Rock and Roll, albeit with a rasping cough, a Bristolian accent and severe shrinkage.

They use subliminal imagery and a series of quacks to control your mind.

 

Menace to Society

Naomi says that every time we meet to write, something appalling has happened in the world. And lately we’ve been meeting twice weekly, so at this rate we might bring about the apocalypse before we finish writing the play.  I’m not saying that’s definitely going to happen, but I’ve not renewed my monthly Netflix subscription, just in case.

Post-Brexit England, during a heatwave.

Time Travel for Cats and Kittens

The world just keeps on doing what it’s doing, and there’s no rewind or pause or stop or fast-forward…at least until time-travellers get their act together, in which case this bit will already have been re-written without anybody knowing.  Perhaps it already has.  Perhaps time has been changed.  My cat Fergal is looking a bit different.  For one thing, I swear until a few moments ago I didn’t have a cat named Fergal.  Are cats time-travellers?  It could explain a lot of things.

I'd genuinely love one of these.