Split from the Meandering Mind of a Wondering Man
If life is not funny poke fun at it.
Writing; “outsourcing” reflections from the mirror in your mind, on to blank screen or paper, to allow you to see clearer.
“If your face doesn’t fit, leave it,’ said the plastic surgeon.
If the eye picks a fight with even the smallest grain of sand it must end in tears.
If you don’t sweat your assets you will freeze to death.
You can’t scale a slippery slope without friction, or rubbing a stone the wrong way.
The laws of nature are blind to race, the laws or man are not, is it because it is in our nature?
Would Lewis win so many races if the car knew that he was black? said one six year old to the other.
Asked about the prospects for the economy “I’m quietly jingoistic,” said the new Brexit Chancellor.
Even the briefest of fusions can give rise to that most explosive of nuclear units, the family.
Behind every multitasking man is a busy woman discreetly tidying up after him, fuming, wishing him well out of it on the sofa.
When you fall head over heels pray that he/she has too or laid a soft bed for your heart to land on its beats.
To marry: to like, hook and sin her.
Marriage is like tennis, full of exchanges.
Asked about the secret of his 50 year marriage. “Each day I wake up the same man but to a different woman.”
God does not play dice said Einstein but is meiosis a celestial game of scrabble based on 4 letters?
The past, best used as an account to draw on not as a house to live in or it could bury you before your time.
Like cotton buds, words can soothe, but like cotton buds can choke if shoved down the back of the throat.
Life is not splayed out on paper it’s not your bottle of ink said the football coach to his critic.
It’s been nice lying with you said the acquitted burglar to his naked brief as he jumped over the fence.
Pumped fictions and reactions unequal and fantastic roll off their dulcet tones. (Brexit campaign)
Cast iron promises made in the heat of passion will wilt in the afterglow of postelectoral cigarette (Brexit).
‘Have you not given this planet too much said Angel A. You wait till tomorrow to see the type of man I will put there,’ said God.
History is the human tale and like an animal’s tail follows us, is used in defence and attack to decorate, embellish.
One who lets another write his history will be unpleasantly surprised.
Don’t leave your history to those born with a golden nib in their hands.
Immigrant life is like watching TV in another’s house but in spite of the spit and spite and all, you want to see the end of the show.
Mind over money matters.
Before and behind every solution is a problem
If every little will helps can what is to be or not to be still be called destiny?
History bonds but can also bind
History keeps repeating itself, the same lesson in different ways, because it can’t get through to us.
“I’m sure you’ll find something to look back on as you wind down even if it’s only the passing of wind”
To be cisterned: shafted, to be looked down, sat and shat on while your boss pisses off, flushed, with your company pension.
Diplomacy: is the quiet exchange of cherished hypocrisies.
For those that time expends faster than any others on this planet their money everywhere but in their pockets. (Africa).
The truth has no point of view and it does not care about yours.
No matter how hard they try the privileged cannot shake off their sense of entitlement nor the disadvantaged their insecurity
Worker is one who more often deserves what she gets than gets what she deserves. A boss writes his own cheque.
Blood is thicker than water, money runs thicker than both, but only light can travel faster.
Isis: If your enemy knows that you will only shrug your shoulders why retreat?
If you can stand the stench you can apply free enterprise to anything.
“All I want is a chance to compete on an uneven playing field,” she thought as she waited for her interview.
You don’t know what to do with your time? Spend it on someone else. You can’t hoard it or take it with you.
Said the priest to the newly weds “it is never too early to deliver a pregnant pause.”
Said the plutocrat to the pleb. “We are the warders in this prison you call life.”
Says the plutocrat to the shivering pleb. ‘You are always dancing. Must be paid too much.’
Says the same plutocrat to the pleb. ‘Your taxes are voluntary but my invoice is definitely compulsory.
Says the plutocrat to the bedraggled bellhop singing the Blues – “what is the source of your happiness so that I can block or spend it?”
The snobbish optimist looks forward to looking down her nose; the pessimist snob also wants to but thinks everyone is looking down on her.
Anything people dig out of the ground is grounds for burying people.
You need hindlight for hindsight
“You no longer have to stand on your head to get it up,” said the pharmacist to the flaccid man.
Why worry about the glass ceiling when your nose is pressed to the grindstone.
Evil and revenge are not equal and opposite, the equation can never balance.
A rich man is one who can afford to spend his time only with those he has time for, but doesn’t.
Happy, or apathy with a painted smile?
Isis and Putin and Boko Haram leave me tweetless.
They say a problem shared is a problem halved but it could be the start of an epidemic (or a rumour).
Give some an inch and they’ll put light years on you.
Priests have confidence in faith, economists faith in confidence, a sceptic reasons to doubt them both.
Are Kenyan steeplechasers born feet first leaping over huge placentae and umbilical cords and the midwife’s outstretched hands?
Sales of sunbeds collapse as UKIP keep winning.
Time appreciates with age.
Live in the moment is not great advice if you’re miserable.
A “stress-related illness” could be a broken bone or heart or mind.
Radicalisation- a warm blanket over woolly thinking.
The glass is now fuller because of those who saw that it was half empty.
Black lives matter but others matter more.
Destiny is the mind cast, like a carpet, ahead of the tread of life, and the queues we join, for good or ill, without knowing it.
A mad man may be wrong to think that he is always right but it will not be right to think that he is always wrong.
To live or not to live in the moment or for the moment our day may come?
They say it is the thought that counts, but what did it do and to whom?
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