I have been a quiet Parrot of late. No cloth has been thrown over the cage unless you count the new specs that switch to black on contact with sunlight. I’m looking forward to my peril-sensitive pair.

When I don’t write, it means I’ve nothing to write about. This is unusual as I can usually scrape up something. So the last few days probably means I am brain-dead, apart from the odd low spike on the ECG.

Such as: I was wandering through a car park yesterday and spotted this on the rear of a black VW — I had a look when I got home and it is a maudlin compulsive idea. Well, when you get to a certain age.

But this isn’t meant to be a glum spot, other than this — my best mate gets married today. For the third time.

I was tempted to remind him that repeating the same mistake is a classic sign of psychopathic behaviour, but it’s not what you expect to read on the card, next to the horseshoes and confetti. Nor does, “Must like the taste of wedding cake.”

Neither of which would be true. Both mate and new wife were relaxed and very, very happy. Which is all you can really ask for or expect.

And I think they will be so, please charge your glasses and toast, “The Bride and Groom.”

Nobody’s prefect. If you find any spelling mistakes or other errors in this post, please let me know by highlighting the text and pressing Ctrl+Enter.

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