We struggle through life constantly trying to find each other with plaintive cries of Marco and Polo. We convene for pots of tea and discussions about everything and nothing. Somehow goats found their way into our repartee. There promises to be no logic to our content, just bits and pieces that we find on our travels.

Sunday, September 6, 2009

The AntsR


The universe directly balanced Polo’s nice work day with mine being several kinds of unfortunate. I managed to exit one work location early, on the grounds of being ill and fairly useless, only to pass another personal work hotspot to see the man I am forever karmically indebted to swamped with customers.  I jumped in, worked hard for a few hours, received some free though somewhat odd tasting bread and accidently accrued more karmic debt to this super Samaritan by accepting an offer to have a rope ladder made on my behalf.

The point of this post, before I suddenly discovered a whole vault of angst that needed exercising, was to start sharing my mondegreens. 
 Lyrics I’ve misheard and wrongly sung at people often enough to eventually have be corrected and be made aware of my adaptation. This month I’ll start on a favourite one I’ve always struggled to relinquish; “ants are my friends, they’re blowing in the wind. The ants are blowing in the wind...”

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