And so it begins....
Lady Bracknell's friend, the Goldfish, has a most rational turn of mind. In her comments on Lady Bracknell's earlier musings on the perfidious behaviour of the common light bulb, the Goldfish attempted to persuade her ladyship that inanimate objects are incapable of plotting against their owners.
Lady Bracknell, however, has evidence to the contrary. It would appear that her erstwhile wholly innocent potato-mashing implement has, under cover of darkness, acquired headgear which can only be described as military. Can there be an innocent explanation for this behaviour? Lady Bracknell thinks not, and must, for her own safety and that of her household, assume that she is now under siege. But how is she to provision herself when her own kitchen has become a war zone?
(Lady Bracknell is at pains to assure her readers that this photograph was not staged. The scene is exactly as she found it when she entered her kitchen this morning with the innocent intention of making herself a cup of tea.)
The humour of the knife block to the left is by no means lost on Lady Bracknell. However, under the present circumstances, she is relieved to report that she did not succumb to the temptation of purchasing one. Readers who do not share her ladyship's qualms about the intentions of their belongings may, however, should they consider that the little chap would constitute an amusing addition to their home decor, purchase one here.
Lady Bracknell, however, has evidence to the contrary. It would appear that her erstwhile wholly innocent potato-mashing implement has, under cover of darkness, acquired headgear which can only be described as military. Can there be an innocent explanation for this behaviour? Lady Bracknell thinks not, and must, for her own safety and that of her household, assume that she is now under siege. But how is she to provision herself when her own kitchen has become a war zone?
(Lady Bracknell is at pains to assure her readers that this photograph was not staged. The scene is exactly as she found it when she entered her kitchen this morning with the innocent intention of making herself a cup of tea.)
The humour of the knife block to the left is by no means lost on Lady Bracknell. However, under the present circumstances, she is relieved to report that she did not succumb to the temptation of purchasing one. Readers who do not share her ladyship's qualms about the intentions of their belongings may, however, should they consider that the little chap would constitute an amusing addition to their home decor, purchase one here.
6 Comments:
I want one of those knife blocks, so I do. It's fab.
Great picture Lady B. Have you got a wee ghostie in your flat going about setting up comic picture opportunities for you?
If Master Marmite has clicked on the link her ladyship's editor so cleverly inserted, he will have seen that the "All Men Are Bastards" knife block is not cheap.
Her ladyship read somewhere once that, if one's kitchen knives are on open display, one ought to behave with very great caution indeed should one hear an intruder in one's house. Since which time, she has insisted that Cook put the Bracknell knives away in a drawer when they are not in use.
Her ladyship has no desire to be stabbed while abed!
If Lady Bracknell does have a wee ghostie, it is clearly one of a very war-like temperament.
Lady Bracknell's editor has now amended the link so that it actually works. She has also been sent to bed without any supper!
In the light of such evidence, it is difficult for me to dismiss her Ladyship's fears in my usual flippant manner. However, her Ladyship has rushed to a number of conclusions without a full and frank analysis of the situation as it appears to be.
If the masher has consciousness, why is it wearing a helmet? What is the masher afraid of? Is this a hostile act against her Ladyship or is it merely a defensive act in response to some aggresive potatoes (which are presumably as sentient as it is)?
Following the Pot Noodle Incident could it be that Lady Bracknell's editor has recently purchased a tub of the excellent convenience food Smash Mash, causing the masher to become anxious and insecure?
I collected enough tokens from Smash Mash to get a laughing alien fridge magnet. The sound of such a laugh would be enough to unnerve any kitchen implement.
By the way, I am a great fan of the "I want one of those" catalogue. My favourite item must be the remote control golf ball, but then I am someone with very little respect and perhaps even a smidgeon of contempt for the game of golf and those who play it.
Lady Bracknell confesses (somewhat shamefacedly) that the Goldfish's analysis of the situation had not occurred to her.
Lady Bracknell finds Smash powdery and unpalatable, but the same cannot be said of Mr Mash, a bowl of which, mixed with a large dollop of horseradish sauce, the editor confesses that she enjoyed the other evening with some rather dubious vegetarian sausages.
Perhaps it is time to wield the potato peeler, and give the masher something to get its webbed feet into....
Ms Goldfish reminds me of a ridiculous item that used to be available in the Innovations catelogue. They used to sell a pair of slippers with headlights in them so you wouldn't have to turn on the light if you got up for a wee in the small hours. I only wish I'd had the foresight to buy a pair.They'd be worth somewhere in the region of 30 of your earth pennies by now.
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