Ach, my noble self is no longer wound up by windmills, or smileys, or even typos... being now consumed by what a medical man has told me, when taken when I again heard the cuckoo signing in the cuckoburra tree, which is that my esteemed self and the less couth (uncouth?) Andrew the Scott are one and the same creature, nay being, nay soul. Can this be true? I always thought of Andrew as a rather dourm rough and dull creation, while he has generally thought of me as a (noble) nutter, I have been told. Thus contemplating such an (im)possibiity, I have no time for trivial pursuits like whirlywindywhills... hah... but no, I must try to decide how many of me or us there really are, or is. Do I, or we, need help Seanso, or just beer? But one glass or two? And does Dulcinea love this Andrew too? It would explain some things that have disturbed me around the Castle of QuiScottie... Hmm...
Ah, noble Don, nothing to worry. All identities are complementing one another in a perfect way.Obviously. To discover the last answers that need to be discovered, I suggest to not drink one or two pints of plain but to sacrifice them to all identities of Lady Dulcinea, and add a third one. In cervisia veritas.
The Don of nowadays might invest in a carborundum-tipped chainsaw, for he is pondering more modern equipment for his quests, as you can read about on the revived http://donquiscottieblog.blogspot.co.uk/
Ach, my noble self is no longer wound up by windmills, or smileys, or even typos... being now consumed by what a medical man has told me, when taken when I again heard the cuckoo signing in the cuckoburra tree, which is that my esteemed self and the less couth (uncouth?) Andrew the Scott are one and the same creature, nay being, nay soul. Can this be true? I always thought of Andrew as a rather dourm rough and dull creation, while he has generally thought of me as a (noble) nutter, I have been told. Thus contemplating such an (im)possibiity, I have no time for trivial pursuits like whirlywindywhills... hah... but no, I must try to decide how many of me or us there really are, or is. Do I, or we, need help Seanso, or just beer? But one glass or two? And does Dulcinea love this Andrew too? It would explain some things that have disturbed me around the Castle of QuiScottie... Hmm...
ReplyDeleteWas that cuckoo really signing Don. Sign language? Singing perhaps? You are a confused fellow, whoever you are.
DeleteAnd dourm?
Dulcinea?
I'll ask Margaret if she can make any sense of this.
Ah, noble Don, nothing to worry. All identities are complementing one another in a perfect way.Obviously.
DeleteTo discover the last answers that need to be discovered, I suggest to not drink one or two pints of plain but to sacrifice them to all identities of Lady Dulcinea, and add a third one. In cervisia veritas.
I like trees! I like them very much. Does Don QuiScottie too?
ReplyDeleteDon who?
He does, Andrew, he does.
DeleteAn awesome photograph, by the way (obviously). Apologies for tagging such nonsense below its beauty.
ReplyDeleteWithout your words the photograph would certainly lack of beauty, Andrew DonQuiScottie-Scott. Ask MacLaren.
DeleteDamn yes, I forgot about MacLaren... That makes three of me.
DeleteBarman! Three pints for me immediately and whatever the Ladies Dulcinea and Margaret and squires Sean and Seanso are having. A fine party.
Methinks one's lance would bend on contact with that windmill - or at least give one a nasty clanging.
ReplyDeleteLance?
DeleteThe Don of nowadays might invest in a carborundum-tipped chainsaw, for he is pondering more modern equipment for his quests, as you can read about on the revived http://donquiscottieblog.blogspot.co.uk/
A fabulous photo. However the windmill does seem to be invading the space of the trees...
ReplyDelete