Water sports is topical at the moment with those possibly fake reports about Trump and golden showers. Whether true or not he'll certainly be remembered for them.
I'm starting to come right at long last after my Shingles and PHN problems and am out and about again. I've been swimming yesterday and today, taking advantage of the good weather that has finally arrived.
Of course my idea of swimming is at variance with The Old Girl's who calls my style 'wallowing'. Bloody cheek. I like to just lie in the water half in and half out like a crocodile watching things above and below the surface at the same time.
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS
Tracey in her latest (and long overdue) post talks about her travels to the Evil Empire soon to be known as Trumpland. She didn't encounter any celebrities there other than the fake kind (do they have any other?) and it wasn't until she was back home in Petoneland that she met up with none other than Richard (of Richard's Bass Bag).
She says in her post that he wasn't drinking chardonnay at the time.
Lucky her!
If he had been downing a few this is what happens.
I thnk that she had a lucky escape.
3 comments:
Wallowing is wonderful. Swimming is an unnatural pastime for any of the great apes.
Doesn't Richard (of Richard's Bass Bag) have a lovely, refined accent, quite untainted by the kiwi twang.
Wallowing is wonderful. Swimming is an unnatural pastime for any of the great apes.
Doesn't Richard (of Richard's Bass Bag) have a lovely, refined accent, quite untainted by the kiwi twang.
You wouldn't think that if he were to ring you early in the morning singing seemingly endless verses of 'The Grand Old Duke of York'
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