Cognition, Language & Thought

• The paraglider got sucked into the storm cell created by a sparrow and was lucky not to be killed on Mt. Everest like the people on the Boeing 747.

• The sparrow was riding the paraglider who was pushed from the Boeing 747 into a storm cell and died after crashing on Mt. Everest.

• The smell on the spaceship called Shakespeare auditioned for the play 'Purple People Eaters'.

• Furin-chan auditioned for a Shakespear play that was to be held in a funky smelling purple spaceship.

• The eggplant followed the doormice, tripped on the the evening stars and landed inside a rocket launcher where it founded a new religion.

• As a religious tradition a group of doormice living in the eggplant that looks like a rocket launcher like to watch the evening stars annually.

• The bum theif's underwear was stolen from right under his nose hair and was pinned to a coconut shell that became the magpie's new home.

• The bum theif in a hairy underwear ran down my street with two halves of a coconut that he stole from a magpie.

• The wind blew away the peanut M&M before he swallowed his trochea and celebrated the miseries of weird noises that were perfumed.

Hiragana? No sweat!

Watashi wa Nihongo no gakusei desu.
Watashi no namae wa ****** ja-arimasen.
Watashi wa Furin Chii desu. Hontoo desu!!

Sorry folks. I had to get that out of my system.
Latest news: have taken up Japanese... FINALLY! I've been wanting to do so for years, but for many reasons didn't do so until now.

Will write more later...
cheers!

Creatures of the Night

The horror she's been through is unbelievable. If she
doesn't quit now... Well, let's just say that I refuse to let her
out of my sight for a long time to come.

It would appear that bats and vampires were not the only creatures of the night. My turbulent thoughts of late had turned me into an insomniac. Little had I known that on one of these nights, my insomnia proved to be a blessing rather than a curse, especially for "her".
It was one of those surreal nights- I was thinking too much, and the more I thought, the more I came back to that one word.

2 o'clock in the morning is not a time one would expect one's front door to be making a significant amount of noise. Yet that's what was happening- the front door was being pounded on... non-stop.

There were only two of us in the house, and neither of us asleep. We first tiptoed towards each other's rooms, then boldly (and I use the term loosely) made our way downstairs to see who had paid us a visit at such ungodly hours. Our imaginations played havoc with thoughts of ghouls, vampires, homocidal maniacs... or worse, a drunk lunatic.