Wot with being educated in sarf London, one left skool not well-endowed on the grammar front. Upon realisation of how the wrong 2 can leave a whole sentence in complete error—‘knackered’ as they say where I come from—I recoiled in utmost terror.
With great Gusto, I tried to get much better. Gusto—guess what—did really great, while I just mediocre. Correct me if wrong, I’ll be glad. But a two-way street it’s apparently not, as discovered to my bad.
Brunch; could it be any other way?
Personally, my favourite mash-up-meal-time is lafternoon tea.
Nothing like a good giggle while quaffing piles of little triangle sandwiches and chunky slices of cake.
All washed down with copious lashings of Rosie, of course. Continue reading
This poem is inspired by one written a few weeks ago: Hollywood
Hollywood relied on a play of words to say something concise about a serious subject.
It also used a ‘playground metre’ to give it a ring-of-roses feel; the hope being to replicate the flippancy frequently shown dark matters. Continue reading