I’m Just Payin’ My Rent Every Day in the Tower of Soup…

I’m all on fire with puns this morning; puns and rhymes and almost-rhymes and word-play and I don’t know what.  Sometimes I wake up and it’s just there: for egg*, this morning I woke up thinking ‘Robinson Crusoe, unpacking a trousseau.’  That set me wondering why Robinson Crusoe might be unpacking a trousseau, and who knows where I might have ended up had Mark not wandered in with the tea at that point.

Now, speaking of tea: I have a complaint to make.  Why is it that people who drink tea all day long and into the evening, have no trouble sleeping whereas I, with my healthy habits of only having caffeine in the mornings, only have to drink one cup of Earl Grey in the afternoon for it to disrupt my entire night.  It just isn’t fair!

And that brings me to my second word-play of the morning, which was:

‘living lives of diet desperation.’

I am fortunately not in the position of having to lose weight – or not much – but I remember how it feels when you do.

Then Mark happened to mention Manny’s tower of soup in ‘Black Books’, and I put it together with Leonard Cohen and what did I get?  The title for today’s blog post, that’s what!

Here’s Manny with his tower of soup:

Manny's soup tower

and here is Cohen’s Tower of Song:


Don’t say I never give you anything!

Kirk out

* that, as of course you twigged, is my way of saying ‘for example’.  Yesterday’s post was going to be about eggs, but is still languishing in the drafts folder



Filed under friends and family, music, poems, The madness of Mark, TV reviews

3 responses to “I’m Just Payin’ My Rent Every Day in the Tower of Soup…

  1. No, I didn’t twig eggs. But it did prompt the thought: ‘what’s the point of having double letters,

  2. are there any rules? How much ink money could be saved if we all agreed that eggs is egs?’ Spock out

    • lizardyoga

      It’s a good point I guess. Americans seem to have largely dispensed with double letters but I quite like them. They often give a sense of the history of a word. Incidentally, according to a story I was told, the llama got its name when the Spanish went to South America, pointed at one and asked the natives ‘Como se llama?’ (what’s it called?) Apparently the native just repeated the word ‘llama’ and the name stuck…

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