A terrible poem I wrote years and years ago:
The beer bottle is brown
It fizzes when opened:
Pschitt! As the French say.
It was a Haiku.
If you don’t know, there used to be a fizzy drink sold in France and it was advertised with the word “Pschitt!” plastered all over the billboard (to indicate the sound it made when opened) – much to the amusement of all English-speaking visitors. I guess they’ve got wise to it now.
What would the English equivalent be? Suggestions please.
I’ve taken to working in the reference library. It’s warmer and quieter – and they have more computers. Downside: they are much stricter about not eating and drinking – but actually, that’s better – if I don’t drink, I don’t need to pee.
In fact, the reference library is altogether a severer place to work: busts of Shakespeare and Newton (as well as other luminaries, all male) preside sternly over you as you work. They all look very serious, though I fancy Shakespeare has a smile playing around his mouth, though that could be just because I know him.
Very tired today. Slept badly. Going out with Ruth tonight, to Sardaar’s as usual (we are blessed with many veggie Indian restaurants in Leicester) – and tomorrow, to the Ale Wagon with Peter and then back to his for food.
TTFN – enjoy your weekend
PS Actually, as haiku lovers will have spotted, the last line doesn’t have enough syllables.