Tea Roulette

I’m playing tea roulette. After all, it’s a time for reflection

That’s where every time you have a sip of tea, you think about something else.

GOLDEN YUNNAN SIP.

I wonder why I was interviewing Eddie Veddor from Pearl Jam in my dream, in Loxton. I mean, I’ve not been to Loxton for thirty years, I don’t listen to Pearl Jam, I couldn’t pick Eddie Veddor out of a line-up; I only know his name in case it comes up in a trivia quiz. I wonder why I remember the unusual paving in such detail.

GOLDEN YUNNAN SIP

I must stop writing this and bake that bread. It’s been rising all night. Any bigger and I’ll need another oven

GOLDEN YUNNAN SIP.

That poster I saw yesterday for shoes. Kobe “BLACK MAMBA” Bryant and Kevin ‘DURANTULA’ Durant. Why would that make me buy shoes? I only know who one of those guys is, and that’s only because he’s controversial. I wonder why these big men feel the need for big masculine nicknames? I mean, if you’re good at basketball and confident in your sexuality, would fans love you any less if your nickname was a little confronting? Charles “PINK SQUIRREL” Berkowitz? Norman “MERMAID FLOWER CHILD” Vermont? Curtis “I’M RAMPANTLY HOMOSEXUAL AND COMPLETELY CAMP BUT CAN STILL PLAY BASKETBALL BETTER THAN YOU” Swanington-Norris-Smythe ?

GOLDEN YUNNAN SIP

I love talking on Twitter.  At the moment I’m conversing with the subversive, dark beating heart of British Art, Vic Darkwood. And also my friend Meredith, who is a librarian in New Zealand.  Both are highly subversive in different ways. Both are on my theoretical  lottery-winning grand tour. Along with many, many others.

SLIGHTLY COLD GOLDEN YUNNAN SIP

I wonder where Lily is? Yesterday he decided to nap on top of me for hours. Today he is absent. I wonder how many readers will be thinking “cat” and how many will be letting their imaginations run wild. Or indeed, thinking . Or indeed, reading this.

SLIGHTLY COLD GOLDEN YUNNAN SIP

Must rake the autumnal leaves from the back lawn.

COLD GOLDEN YUNNAN SIP

Picnic today at a waterfall. About to craft some Scotch eggs. Why are they called scotch eggs? Might also make some tea eggs. Looks like I’ll be putting that chocolate-toting bunny out of business. But Hop looks to be a good film. The one drawback of having both kids out of the house by the time I turned 40 is all the great kids’ films I can’t go see sans children without looking like a shady predator, or indeed, a member of our state parliament, which this week has sadly been the same thing.  Incredible how the documented rise of religious zealots in our cabinet has not helped much with social justice, and in one case, appears to be connected to a fair bit of social injustice. I guess saying Mass in Latin and being worthy of breathing the air of this planet are not necessarily the same thing. The great thing about being an atheist is that you can admire some of these religious leaders because of the genuine good work they do; not just because they’ve been annointed by the machine of some church.

SMALL SIP OF GOLDEN YUNANN

Whenever I write or say “annointed”, I remember that Steve Martin Film. “Oh Pointy Bird….”

SMALL SIP OF MOISTURE FROM GOLDEN YUNNAN CUP

This five-day holiday is weird. Here in SA, the government tells us when we can and can’t open shops. I guess if it were the USA, they wouldn’t. Probably be too frightened of being shot down by gun-toting grannies. That’s of course, the cartoon USA in my head. Does seem an odd place, though. How about Yosemite Sam? What politician would dare interfere in the lives of humble shopkeepers if Yosemite Sam stuck a barrel up their nose. They’d shake in their britches.

DISMAYED GLANCE IN EMPTY TEA CUP

Happy Easter, or whatever else you happen to be celebrating/enjoying.

6 thoughts on “Tea Roulette

  1. Brilliant post. I should really not reply now but later with a cup of tea in hand, so I can play your tea roulette too. Remind me, if I forget. Perhaps we should all do this on this post. Yes…a great idea even if I did think of this myself.

    As to the insights into your mind. Excellent stuff. I get to know you more every time you write. “Charles Pink Squirrel, eh?” Ha! Maybe you’re onto something there.

    I could say something about everything, but I have things to do in preparation for Easter.

    J. PS: I still wonder why your boy cat is called Lily? Did he undergo some sort of change?

  2. Interesting. I may have to give this a try. My boyfriend has said several times that he would love to see what goes on in my head because sometimes I say the most random things and point out minor details. It might be fascinating to write out those thoughts… and, of course, drink tea.

    1. It’s an Australian thing. My own beloved Adelaide Crows (who play proper Australian Rules Football, where you have sufficient skill to use all of your limbs and you don’t hide behind body armour) has Graham “Stiffy” Johncock.

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