A) If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where my little brother found the frog, what happened to the greenhouse, and all that Countryfile kind of crap, but I don't really feel like going into it, to tell you the truth.
B) Mr and Mrs Frog of Number 4, Under-The-Greenhouse Drive were perfectly ordinary, thank you very much.
C) Double double, toil and trouble,
Greenhouse broken into rubble.
To explain, if thou hast not yet noticed, I'm going for a literary knickerbocker-glory today. In case thou canst not divine them: A) is in the style of Holden Caulfield of The Catcher in the Rye; B) paraphrases the opening to Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone; and C) is almost identical to the chorus of the witches' chant in Act IV scene i of Macbeth. I adore Macbeth. I saw a performance of it at Shakespeare's Globe in London with my sister on 1st May this year. It was fantastic!
To explain the events of the day, mother decided to take down the Bronze Age greenhouse at the bottom of the garden. When I say "take down", I rather imagine she would run at it and tackle it to the floor. She may well have done; I was at school at the time. In doing so, several frogs were freed/exiled from its reaches.
So, ranking among the top 3 most absurd of my English posts, that concludes today's dwellings. If thou hast not enjoyed today's blog, thou hast a deficiency in thy love for literature.
Night froods!
No comments:
Post a Comment
If you particularly enjoyed today's instalment from my brain, let my brain know by posting a comment. Especially let me know if my brain made a mistake during its nattering, as I will need to give it disciplinary action.