I (sometimes) call myself Mr. Pondersome. I'm a rather wordy, weirdy person. I say hullo a lot. I write a lot more. While you're here, why not give some of it a read?

Friday, 27 February 2015


I don't see why she should all the time. Don't do it. If I don't get the shopping done today, I shall be cross.
You're wrong!

Down here.
I want some double concentrate.
Up there, love.
That's a pound.
Leave one at home. So you get a litre.

They all tell me off anyway.
No way.

I want sweetcorn.
Pass that to me.
What do you want?
Instead of me pain therapy.

She hit her in the face. I went straight to the school. The same day they sprayed her in the eye, I went straight round there. I've got a child coming home every night, scared to ride the bus. I don't know what to do, do you know what I mean?
Yeah, yeah, yeah. Deal with that. I can't be bothered. Next time.

They ha'n't got any but...
I tell you what we could do...
Do you remember Wednesday?

Get two gravy then.

Next time I'm bringing the pillow. To put my foot on.

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