Africa, Africу, Africeт, Africeм, Africeтe, Africют.
Tag: Phillip Schofield
29th Aug – Oh, yeah, And I have met my destiny in quite a similar way
Stav Danaos was reading the weather today. Reading. Not telling. He’s a bit proprietorial about it all isn’t he? Perhaps he takes his job title, weather forecaster, a bit too liderally*. It doesn’t come from a magic well into which only he can see, you know. For my part I prefer the pagaillique* approach of the ITV-casters, with the exception, obviously, of that woman who rides the donkey as a route to fame – she who posits herself as a specialist forecaster of weather at horse racing venues. Her colleagues though, are good because the know that they’re common and act like the weather’s something that has just happened to them. Which, of course, it has. It may sound harsh to put it that way, but I’m allowed, I was once a trainee pig-iron trader.
July 13th – come along with us, to the glorious, annual, ugly bug ball.
It’s time to split his portfolios up and give one to putative modern-day saint, Saint Greavsie of Television.
June 24th – Sleep upon my shoulder as we creep, Across the sands so I may keep, The memory of our Caravan.
Come the end of the season, I’ll have mastered the art of living small, and need only add a car with tow bar to create a portfolio of flexible assets, which will bring with them a world of opportunity.
June 22nd – I’ll gas up my hot rod stoker, We’ll get hotter than a poker, You’ll be broke but I’ll be broker, Tonight we’re settin’ the woods on fire.
I haven’t seen Nomadland yet, but perhaps with (temporary) access to funds and some paid employment I’m not so much homeless as camping?
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