The lesson for all of us here is never to volunteer to hold the oars, not even for a second. Splinters are the least of your worries when you’re facing very strong headwinds, and space junk up to wazoo. Don’t say you weren’t warned, friends and others.
It only remains for us to make a booking and turn up for Chef Francesca’s delicious tuna-themed slices.
Well I remember a little pizza joint just around the corner from my alma mater, the august and september-y University of Queensland, in Hawken Drive. It was truly a dive, because you had to dive down below street level, with the aid of a set of stairs as I recall, or perhaps simply a well-timed roll, in order to enter its very Bohemian portal – well, it seemed extremely Bohemian to a little cat from Central Queensland’s sticks still trying to find her city paws. Great pizza though, and drinks. Oh, the drinks. One was far too many, friends, and, as usual, a hundred more were never quite enough. Good times … the little I well remember of them.
I have a lovely, luscious, yellow banana every single day, viewers and readers, and others of that ilk. Mmm, banana – a simile for perfect fruit, yeah …
Yes, the banana can travel anywhere at a moment’s notice, fully suited up, ready for anything from biting and nibbling to slicing and dicing to mashing and smashing.
Never mind the avocado toast, friends, try some fork-squashed Lady Fingers on Sourdough, or even Happydough, with a soupcon of cinnamon sugar and a teeny, tiny squeeze of original lemon juice, just a few citrus-y drops. You will love it, it will love you. That’s all.
I don’t know D’Arcy or Anthony personally, but the fact that they exchanged their spaceship here on Mars with some rogueish southerner from the Medusae Fossae Formation seems to follow a family pattern. Two of my actual friends, Cy and Clark, have already committed to the Red Canoe Cult – you can check them out enjoying a little angling in the Hale crater. They bear a remarkable resemblance to these two soon-to-be fishin’ fools.