When life hands you lemons…

…make sure they really are lemons.


Ice. Ice. Boobies.

Or even eyes, eyes, boobies.


Treading the boards

It’s a theatrical trailer.


Yesterday was Thursday, Thursday

Of all the items that have been blown or thrown over the fence from the flats next door over the years, a deep fat fryer must count among the more unusual.


“The face of Jesus in my soup…”

It’s the Messiah, in a bowl of squash soup. Who knew?


Education, Education, Education

I know it’s somewhat fashionable to visit the settlement of Twatt, and have your photo taken next to the sign. But I’ve never been there. So I’ve used a picture of Michael Gove instead.


That was a long way to go for the sake of a pun

Oprah, gammon style.


Well, the packet was open



I’m as helpless as a kitten up a tree

Chapter thirteen, in which Tabitha rubs a small part of the misty window with her paw so she can see out.


Someone’s killed Mr Brown

Friday evening, this happened.

Brown sauce

Then I put it on Facebook, and all hell broke loose. Here’s a summary:


John: I know you’ll find the sauce of this atrocity.

Thomas: The perp had a lot of bottle to carry out such a crime.

John: I hope you ketchup with them quickly.

Thomas: Do them for assault.

John: Interrogate them and squeeze the confession out.

Me: I haven’t got the bottle for that kind of investigation.

Me: Says he, not noticing that one’s already been done.

Thomas: Well, if you’d mustard the energy to hit “F5″…

Stuart: I have questioned all of the witnesses and there are 57 varieties of the truth. I think the Coleman is chief suspect though.

Thomas: I think your Mamite have some extra information.

Me: No, Daddy’s usually got the answers.

Stuart: There are two lines in the pub and the Bar A Queue don’t seem to know anything…therefore….

Thomas: Had you paid for it, or was it on HP?

Me: What a waste of a fresh bottle. I feel like I’ve been conned. Immense feelings of guilt.

Stuart: There was some confusion when I interviewed Diane – I thought she meant a cone was involved but it turned out it was a con-di-meant. This status stream is peppered with inaccuracies.

Thomas: Oil be off-line for a while. Play nice.

Me: We’re way past that. The chips are down.

Stuart: It appears that the sauces have dried up…

Thomas: I think you’ve got yourself into a bit of a pickle with that one.┬áIn fact, I think you killed the joke. I’ll pick a lily and throw it onto the coffin.

Stuart: I relish the chance for the joke to be reborn.

Thomas: If we’re going to preserve this punfest, we’re going to have to spread ourselves.

The next time I drop a bottle of sauce, I will clean up the mess and throw it in the bin. I WILL NOT SHARE VIA SOCIAL MEDIA.

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