« Howzit goin', hot stuff? | Main | Progress »

Wednesday, 25 July 2007



"Honey, why do you think it keeps tapping the glass in rhythm?"

"I'm not sure, babe, but now I hear it from the next room."

Moksha Gren

The Simians have been unable to have a peaceful family dinner together ever since Hoppy moved in next door.

"Hey Guys! Whatcha eatin? Oh, boy, I love mac and cheese! Mac and Cheese, Cheesy Mac, just call me Hoppy MacCheese cuz I love it so much! Can't quite get past this glass right now, so I'd really appriciate it if you opened the door so's I can squeeze in for some cheesin', eh?"


This here critter had the temerity to peek at us through our kitchen window while we dined last night. (Not on Mac and cheese.) So I shot him.

Mark, that could get creepy.

Your description, Moksha, is eerily appropriate for the neighbour kids two doors down, though.

Moksha Gren

Wow, Simon. I'd have thought a gun was a bit of overkill for a grasshopper, but I guess a man's gotta protect his dinner.


"And behold, the beasts of burden, the men of the fields -- all succumb to the predations of the Green Monstrous Horde, scouring the countryside to bare branches and barren bones..."
(written under the influence of Runrig's "From The North")


Thanks, Wil. I love poetical use of words like that.

The comments to this entry are closed.