The thing is, my dear mother, Mumma On Mars, is a worlds’ reputed violinist (Mars and Earth), even without the aid of opposable thumbs and forefingers, which, I must admit, makes for some rather amusing evenings with Mozart’s concertos. Here’s a tip: being a little inebriated on a good vintage of Ye Olde Catnippy helps to pass the time, and the notes.
On a rather more prosaic side note, it must be acknowledged (must it? well, yes) that the physiological possession (as opposed to the ooky collector’s possession) of aforementioned thumbs and forefingers, is no recommendation of brilliance, given that the typical human is in thrall to the least little adventure of the smallest and sleepiest of felines. Just sayin’.
Irenaeus Indivisible is a champion of the face-to-face interview with all manner of, well, rather odd people, though they are, usually, quite kind, and simply minding their own unusual lives in peace. Go quietly amid the noise and haste, and practice your very own genre of crazy.
We are really getting into, and onto, sculpture, here on Mars, and we hope you like it very much. Otherwise, well, like it anyway, there’s nothing to dislike, really, about modern sculpture. After all, who knows anything about it or why it even exists except to make us all feel calm and happy after a long, hard day at the solar-face (which is gradually replacing the coal-face, though you will work no less hardly, harder, hard, like very squashed coal). There are diamonds here somewhere.
Did you know that there are at least over 10,000 varieties of mushrooms, and probably even 10,000 more, even. They are everywhere, dear reader, and occasionally, in my tuna soup – ewww! Or yum, I’m not sure which at present. I will let you know when I decide.
Anyway, a lovely way to enjoy the little buttony ones, those that won’t give you the screaming heebie jeebies, is to fry them in a little garlic infused oil and add some roasted pine nuts, along with a handy handful of chopped spinach. Mix gently (people with opposable thumbs and forefingers) until the spinach has wilted and surrendered, and fling on top of a conveniently placed plate of fettucine. Add a garnish of roasted flaked almonds if you dare. Enjoy. You’re welcome. You may add some sliced, sun-dried tomatoes, too, if you’re that way inclined.
Are we there yet? Are we there yet? Wait, yes, it’s over for another year, and Chris Froome has won. Again. For the third time. In a row.
Deja vu all over again, or what, fellow cycle people, or not? I watch it for the recipes, as I’ve mentioned many times, which is just as well, because at least they change from one year to the next. And I’m hoping that there’ll be a lovely and luscious tuna bake from Dusseldorf, home of 2017’s Grand Depart. It is, after all, a city on a river (the Rhine), so there must be tuna around there somewhere.
Meanwhile and P.S., thanks to John Mortimer, creator of our beloved Rumpole and the unforgettable ‘Chateau Thames Embankment.’ Cheers.
Hey there fans of Le Tour, which has just this very last few days, hours, minutes, or whenever, begun. I only watch it for the recipes, as you well know, but seeing as how I originally hail from sunny, banana-y Queensland before the Martian residentiality (where I don’t have to vote, hahahahaha) I thought we’d start it off in style, with technology on parade, and in heaps.
And while the opportunity presents, may I offer my sincere (not really – tee hee) condolences to those of you in Ozland who await the outcome of our latest democratic shenanigans – criticise it if you must, but remember Churchill, who said something like: Democracy is the worst possible system of government – except for all the others. Stay faithful, comrades and remember, vote early, vote often.