I take myself off to work and indeed bring myself back home again solely through the use of those bowed and gnarled twig-like devices of mine called legs. This means that, as I walk past an infants' school every day, I pass the same parents walking their kiddies to the school gates. For logistical reasons that are too dull to explain I walk on the opposite side of the road to most of these parents and kidz, but some do pass me on "my" side of the road.
When eyes meet and seeing as how we see each other every day I usually manage a smile and nod of the head, but I make it a rule to NEVER say "Good Morning". This is not because I am a misanthropic curmudgeon, well not completely anyway. No, it's because once you start giving verbal acknowledgements it becomes an expected daily ritualistic event until one day one of you will inevitably make the gauche mistake of forgetting the mumbled greeting, probably the day when one is under a hangover fug, or has had a row with the missus/hubby/dog. By saying nothing and merely nodding and smiling this faux pas can be avoided.
This morning one of my regulars smiled and said the dreaded "Good Morning" to me as we passed each other, me maneuvering round her three knee-high sproglites. I nodded and smiled, but said nowt in reply....
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A brief interlude of sprot...God, aren't Spain (the footy team not the country) boring with their oh-so-perfect "taki-chicken-tikka" or whatever their dull dull dull passing chess is called? It got to the point last night where after manfully fighting coma for 90 minutes I gave in to the veil of sleep. Even if Germany win tonight, I'll want them to beat the Spaniards in the final...did I really say that? FORZA AZZURRI !!!
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One of my friends was bigging up the latest waxing from Linkin Park on Farcebook the other day, and as I had her down as a lover of R&B (modern definition) and all that implies I was intrigued. I always thought Linkin Park were a sort of cartoon punky rock band. Listening, very briefly it has to be said, to the new album Living Things proved how very very wrong I am in my pre-conceived imaginings.of this band. I am vaguely right about my friend's tastes though.
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And now for some grammar pedantry!
You will soon notice something about these paragraphs. The letters I write in my day job are prosaic affairs detailing clients' tax liabilities or appealing against draconian HMRC dictats and so have to be written in business speak. This is one step above the truly execrable management speak that I am sure we have all suffered in our working environments at some point and involves what boils down to an introduction an explanation and a conclusion.
These tablets of awesomeness are written with minimal punctuation as you may have already worked out from the preceding paragraph. When you read these things your noggin automatically punctuates for you as both Jack Kerouac and I have found, not that Kerouac ever wrote a letter to the IRS! As a result I sometimes find it difficult when spewing forth allegedly creative writing to punctuate fully, and this includes almost no use of semi-colons which, as has now been pointed out to me, can be quite useful. I remain convinced that use of semi colons is in fact addictive; a dash serves equal purpose. There you go - two related clauses that independently make sense....should I have used a colon instead of a dash back there?
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