Coronavirus Lockdown Day Eight – What did the chicken do?
The parrot
has become something of a problem. I have now recognised that, alongside my
grammatical failings regarding the fiendish flesh-eating heathens whom I misconstrued
as cannonballs Molly has been – dare I say it, taking the piss!
I put my cannibal error down to both exhaustion
and to long and crazily confusing over-complicated sentence structures replete
with ungrammatical asides and convoluted syntax infused as often as not with unstructured
paragraphs replete with made up spelling rules and excessive and unnecessary-instances of hyphenation.
On-land I had a challenging sub-editor who would, for a favour, correct my
syntax and my often-unintended attacks on the English language. Here, on this
god-forsaken island there is not even a copy of the Abridged Oxford English
Dictionary with which to bolster my prose!
But back
to Molly. The parrot has what I can only describe as a somewhat offbeat sense
of humour. Her suggestion that we name my injured heathen Man Pretty has been
troubling me, not least since the name is somewhat suggestive of matters of
which both I and Molly know very little. In fact, we know nothing of LGBT
matters and should truth be told I would be mortified if Man Pretty were to be
in any way uneasy at our labelling him as a Pretty man. For all we know his
surname might well be Mobunga, or Usaba or indeed Arghh – for that latter word is
what he cried out with when I cut the straps with which the savages had bound
his wrists and ankles.
I have
pondered on this and on reflection intend to rename him after the month on
which he was delivered from the clutches of those heathen devils whose sole
intent was to cook and eat him. So henceforth Man Pretty will be known as Man March.
Meantime I
am pondering Molly’s fate. After all life on this desert island is difficult
enough without having to put up with her outrageous sense of humour. I mean,
earlier on today – after naming Arghh as Man Pretty she then came out with a
completely unasked-for and outrageous joke about a chicken:
‘This guy
gets a parrot but it's got a bad attitude and foul vocabulary. He tries
everything to change the bird's attitude and clean up its talk but nothing
works. Finally, in a moment of desperation, he puts the parrot in the fridge beside the broccoli.
For a few moments he hears the bird squawking, kicking and screaming and then,
suddenly, all is quiet. He opens the fridge door.
The parrot steps out and says, "I'm sorry that I offended you with my language and actions. I humbly ask for your forgiveness."
The guy's astounded at the bird's change in attitude and was about to ask what changed him when the parrot continued, "By the way, may I ask - what did the chicken do?’
The parrot steps out and says, "I'm sorry that I offended you with my language and actions. I humbly ask for your forgiveness."
The guy's astounded at the bird's change in attitude and was about to ask what changed him when the parrot continued, "By the way, may I ask - what did the chicken do?’
I mean,
you just couldn’t make it up! I shall re-load my musket and consider all options.
Duncan
Harley is a writer and blogger living in the Garioch. His books are available
from Amazon. Just search for Duncan Harley in the Amazon search box. Signed
copies are available @ Inverurie Whisky Shop.
More@: Blogspot Coo9
More@: Blogspot Coo9
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