Bromford and Hippogriff …

 

»When I went to school my very big, if not to say giant teacher told me I had to be very carefull and polite to this magical creature. Otherwise it would tear me apart with its' hard and sharp beak.«

»What kind of creature is this?« the llama asks.

I take a closer look at the picture.

»Looks like an oversized eagle and some feathered being with too many wings«, I wonder. »But it may be one magical creature being torn apart. Somehow the tail has lost its' frontend or the front part has lost its' tail. It's magic. All is magic.«

»The title of today's BlockBlog post says 'Hippogriff'«, says the llama. »You cannot have a hippogriff as your new animal companion in the penthouse apartment. A hippogriff is not real. But I wasn't talking about the bird in the picture. I wanted to know what kind of creature the dude in the blue and white shirt was.«

»I cannot believe it. I cannot accept it. After all these walking and talking animals I am not allowed to have a hippogriff? What would my old professor for Care of Magical Creatures would say about that?«

»Walking and talking animals?« The llama is heavily rolling its' eyes. »Where have you gone to school? Hogwash School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? Come back to earth, dude! Wake up! This is reality. This is the real world. This is life in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside, these days.«

Sunday mornings, I think, are always quite challenging to reality.

»And what are you up to today, animal?« I ask the llama.

»It's time for my yearly CAPTCHA.«

»Your what, animal?«

And the llama says, »My yearly Completely Automated Public Turing test to tell Computers and Humans Apart.«

📶📶📶📶📶📶
📶📶📶📶📶📶
📶📶📶📶📶📶
📶📶📶📶📶📶

Today is Sunday, the 24th of August, 2025.

Bromford and Gorilla …

 

🎵 When the sun hits the moon
Like a big pizza spoon
That's amore… 🎵

As I enter the living-room I find the llama standing on the leather couch. Once again, the animal is pretending the seating furniture is a Venetian gondola and the animal itself a gondolier singing and driving the little narrow boat with a broomstick for a gondola pole. With the llama on the couch sits a gorilla.

»What is a pizza spoon?« the gorilla asks.

»I don't know«, answers the llama. »It's just how the common gondoliers' song goes. That's amore…«

»What do you think is the national animal of Italy?« the ape wants to know.

»Rooster, I think it's a rooster.«

»I don't think so. And why didn't you say cock? Like in the Gallic cock - le coq gaulois - the French cock.«

»I think it is quite obvious why I didn't say cock. So maybe the most Italian animal is the bull. Isn't Italy most famous for its bullfights and bullfighters?«

»No, that must be Spain«, the gorilla says.

»Than it must be a stallion. The Italian Stallion.«

»Sylvester Stallone?«

»What calzone? Are you hungry?«

I think it is time to interrupt this nonsense.

Still standing at he door I am throwing questions into the room, »What is going here? What are you two doing on the couch? And who is that gorilla?«

»Oh, see, it's Bromford, the dude who smells like the town«, the llama welcomes me. »May I introduce King Konfused, your Thursday's appointment for the job of new animal companion.«

Oh, how could I have forgotten that this is still a thing.

»And, animal«, I ask, »what do you think? Would King Konfused be a good new animal companion for me?«

»The blue picture of you two looks like you two were a match made in heaven, but oo be honest«, the llama puts the broomstick back into the closet in the hallway, »I don't think so, although he likes Venice and the channels and the gondolos as much as I have ever hated them.«

»Speaking of appointments«, the gorilla interrupts our chit-chat, »I have got to go now. I have got another appointment on the highest building in New York City with a white woman and some annoying airplanes.«

Having spoken these words he jumps out on the roof-terrace and climbs down the façade of the apartment building on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside.

🈁🈁🈁🈁🈁🈁🈁
🈁🈁🈁🈁🈁🈁🈁
🈁🈁🈁🈁🈁🈁🈁

Today is Thursday, the 21st of August, 2025

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 381 & Part 382

 

Today is Tuesday, the 19th of August, 2025.

What is this nonsense? asked one of nineteen stunt cats. Why are you all following a demented owl through the seasons and the year without any aim and direction? Don't you have work to do, you folks? We are stunt cats, and we - indeed - have a job to do here.

And the nineteen stunt cats with their capes and masks and their skid lids let themselves shoot across the drying river on their flame-spitting motorbikes with a giant cannon.

Happiness is a state of activity, said Aristotle, sighs Twenty-Five, our little tawny owl.

And after their stunt the nineteen stunt cats joined the eleven ninja-cats, the three pouting cats, the twenty-six crying cats, the eighteen weary cats, the ten kissing cats, the two cats with wry smiles, the twenty-four smiling cats with heart-eyes, the sixteen cats with tears of joy, the eight grinning cats with smiling eyes, the thirty-one grinning cats, the twenty-three spiders, the fifteen scorpions, the seven ladybugs, the twenty-nine bees, the twenty-one ants, the thirty crickets, the twenty-two mosquitoes, the fourteen caterpillars, the six snails, the twenty-six butterflies, the eighteen bats, the ten more chicks, the two chicks, the twenty-five chicks, the seventeen penguins, the nine little red birds, and the one little tawny owl…

🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍

🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍
🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍🐱‍🏍

"Via da Bromford"

E′ l'imperativo di ogni eroe
Qui bisogna cavalcare
Via mare si fa prima, eh già
Via da Bromford

Oltre la Foresta Nera
E la Boemia occidentale
Oltre le pianure d′Ungheria
Via da Bromford

(Reprise)

"Bromford"

Con acciaio e rombo d′elica
In ogni impero umido
Come germe invasore
Mi sento a casa qui
Ebbro d'orgoglio, fumo di spirito
Su questo altare affascinante di un′idea
Un nuovo dio cammina qui
Vita, vita
Nascosta luce dell'anima
Buio

Bruciando chimica d'immagine
Come una fossa di trincea
Sbarro il confine alla
Banalita′ del cuore
E col nemico siamo deboli
Come demone pervaso da follia
Un nuovo dio annega qui
Buio, buio
Nascosta luce dell′anima
Solo