Not sure if this is a-beckoning tumbleweed or opening flood gates to a tsunami of silliness but I want to know about the things you do. The stupid things you do – as a ritual.
My mum and dad had unfathomable sayings from long-forgotten northern comedians of the 30s and 40s – triggered by mundane events. I realised recently that this is something I do too, but of course with more bang up to date and modern references. So they did it – and I do it – ergo it must be something we all do. Right, pals?
If the name Geoffrey crosses my path, I will blurt out “Geoffreeee” in the style of George, the pink hippo (?) in TV’s Rainbow show from the 1970s. Or, if I am feeling brave, I bring out my inner Zippy. I’m good at both of those voices, if I say so myself. I’m not a monster though, if I actually meet a Geoffrey – this is internalised (but I still do it). It has no bearing on my respect for the Geoffrey in question.
I know – I’m bonkers, eh? But I know that this is nothing – nothing – compared » Continue Reading.