What’s a poor wee brown furry mole of an anticant to do? [I am NOT a rabbit, by the way, even if I do rabbit on a bit sometimes.] Leaping eagerly to embrace Ginger’s suggestion of an ongoing chat thread, I find myself knocked sideways by Zola, who thinks the idea is a bit of a killjoy.
Well, it’s my burrow and I don’t think a tad of tidiness is amiss. I don’t want to go wandering off along the river bank for a while and find dulce domum in such a mess on my return that I have to enlist the spring cleaning services of Rat, Badger, Mr Toad, and – heaven forbid – the Weasels from the Wild Wood.
So I’m adopting Ginger’s suggestion, and shall post an “Ah Dunno!” blank thread every morning to serve as the burrow’s broom cupboard. All Awkward Squadders, Tyger [whether he decides to join the AS or not], and other visitors are welcome to drop in anytime for mulled wine, nuts, and gossip. But no more fucknoses, please, Zola.
The idea is to keep subject threads from wandering too far afield, as they often rapidly do. What, I am asking myself, has Donald Rumsfeld to do with Zola’s grandma’s knickers? We shall probably never know, and Rummy isn’t likely to confess, though it’s pretty obvious from some of his ‘sayings’ that he frequently can't tell whether it’s fish or Tuesday, as they used to say when I was little.
I never understood what that meant. Still less the inscrutable riddle: “why is a mouse when it spins?” The ‘answer’ was “the higher the fewer”. Put this bird-brained little mole into a right spin, that one did! Maybe some of you can unravel it? Ah dunno.