while pursuing my long running quest to track down certain elvis costello lyrics I came across this
It looks like it’d do the job quickly.
you’d just have to leave the battlefield momentarily. seek out the surgeon and bare your butt.
he flicks the ecraseur and voila! ephemeroids
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I want the ancient carved marble bust of Sarapis, the Ptolemaic god of medicine, death, and resurrection.
Just because.
I was swayed but he lost me on the resurrection part
I see item #145, trumpet-style hearing aid is marked SOLD. To your aposiopetic associate, maybe?
I’m still looking for an 18th century beading needle . . . . .
RaJ: No, she can’t smell the catalogue unless it’s a full moon….
FFF: we have plenty of those at the Gimcrack. but I thought you weren’t interested in having a dalek donger?
No – I just enjoy collecting instruments of torture. It’ll go wonderfully with my hand-crank telephone generator and Kylie Minogue CD . . . .
Your taste in lyrics is exceptional. Diving for Pearls is a wonderful song.
My one-time journalist colleague, Bill Blunt has, I see, ‘noticed’ your fine blog. I never knew he once worked in a psychiatric hospital, and I have your blog to thank for eliciting that information.
You’ve a fine blog, Nurse Myra – long may you blog!
Kind Regards
Thomas Hamburger Jnr
*blushing* why thank you mr hamburger.
between the two of us I hope we elicit more bluntisms, he’s my favourite reader