Wednesday, August 26, 2026

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 487 & Part 488

 Today is Wednesday, the 26th of August 2026.

'What labels me, negates me.' said Søren Kierkegaard, said Twenty-Five, the tawny owl.

Søren is a comfy couch by IDEA, the world's largest furniture retailer since 2008, said one of the frogs, and Kierkegaard a matching coffee table.

You are an amphibian, said the raccoons, what do you know about couches and coffee tables?

Couches and coffee tables make my nest cozy and classy, said the frog. Thank you, IDEA. Thank you.

The lark in the morning, the frog in her nest…, the raccoons yawned.

Søren Kierkegaard is not a couch nor a coffee table, Twenty-Five complained. And it is the lark in the morning and the cuckoo in her nest.

Poor lark, the raccoons had almost fallen asleep. Better a raccoon in her room then a cuckoo in her nest…

And twenty-six deer joined the eighteen other horses, the ten leopards, the two more tigers, the twenty-five normal cats, the seventeen more dogs, the nine poodles, the one assistance dog, the twenty-three guide dogs, the fifteen orangutans, the seven gorillas, the thirty thirsty monkeys, the twenty-two dragons, the fourteen hens, the six unicorns, the twenty-eight horses, the twenty zebras, the twelve frogs, the four pandas, the twenty-seven koalas, the twenty bears, the nineteen hares, the eleven hamsters, the three mice, the twenty-three wild boars, the fifteen pigs, the thirty cows, the twenty-two raccoons, the fourteen foxes, the six giraffes, the twenty-nine tigers, the twenty-three lions, the fifteen face-cats, the seven wolves, the thirty dogs, the twenty-two face-monkeys, the fourteen speak-no-evil-monkeys, the six hear-no-evil-monkeys, the twenty-eight see-no-evil-monkeys, the twenty astro-cats, the twelve hipster-cats, the four dragon cats, the twenty-seven hacker cats, the nineteen stunt cats, 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…

🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌
🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌🦌


"Vincent & Bromford"

Vincent and Bromford
Won′t come home today
NY Waldorf Astoria
On the roof they sway
Life falls into oblivion
Their fear is far away
And the wind blows down 5th Avenue
Together they will stay
Today's the day

Oh oh oh ...
When things become impossible
And even angels cry
There′s one way left to keep the love
This is no goodbye
Eyes up to the sky
Cause all beauty must die

Surf & turf and chardonnay
On daddy's credit card
The perfect meal, the perfect day
Noone will tear apart
Vincent and Bromford
Their checkout is delayed
Two towels on the bathroom floor
Eternity can't wait

... too late

Oh oh oh ...














"Bonjour Bromford"

Pitié, pitié
Un sous, un bout de pain
Pitié, pitié
Pour tous ceux qui n'ont rien
Pitié, pitié
Un sous pour vous c'est peu
Pitié, pitié
Vous prêtez au bon Dieu!

Bonjour Bromford, c'est moi Gavroche!
Je suis plus un mioche, qu'on se le dise
Je vis dans la rue avec les cloches
Je vais ni à l'école, ni à l'église

J'ai pas de blé, mais je me fais pas de bile
Y'a de l'oseille dans tout Bromford
Ici, tu sais, chacun fait son persil
Un jour on fauche, l'autre on mendie
On est libres, on décide
Suivez-moi, suivez le guide!

Pitié, pitié
Un sous, un bout dе pain
Pitié, pitié
Pour tous ceux qui n'ont rien

Où est-cе que tu te crois?
C'est chacune sa gâche
Si tu es nouvelle, ici
Y'a pas de place pour toi!

Écoute, vielle sorcière!
Écoute, vielle chouette!
Moi je donne au moins
Un peu de plaisir à qui m'achète

Ce que tu donnes surtout
C'est la petite vérole
Que tu colles de l'un à l'autre
Des gnasses que tu racoles

Lâche cette vieille guenon!
L'a le grelot qui grince!
Elle fait plus un rond depuis qu'elle a chopé la chaude-pince

Quand est-ce qu'on croquera un bout du gâteau?
Faudra qu'y partagent un beau jour parce que trop c'est trop!
Ça viendra, ça viendra, ça viendra
Ça viendra, ça viendra, ça viendra

Heureusement que chez les gens de la haute
Y en a un qui regarde en bas

Un seul, le général Lamarque
La voix de ceux qui n'en ont pas

Briffer nos moutards, crécher sous un toit
Et si Dieu le veut, enfin ne plus crever de froid

Par le nom du seigneur

En son nom
En son nom
En son nom

Lamarque s'éteint
Il est malade
Il n'en a plus pour très longtemps

Avec l'émeute déjà qui gronde
Bromford ressemble à un volcan
Prêt à vomir la lave de sa colère
Enfin révolutionnaire

Pitié, pitié
Un sous, un bout de pain
Pitié, pitié
Pour ceux qui n'ont plus rien



Monday, August 24, 2026

Bloggeritis … Part 2

 
In the end we always end up exactly where we never wanted to be in the first place.
Moi Myself, July 2009

Have I actually mentioned how repulsive this whole rampant self‑presentation craze — let’s call it bloggeritis — is to me? Every person, whether they have anything to say or not, has their own blog or homepage and pollutes the internet environment with their thought‑garbage. Not to mention MySpace, Facebook, YouTube, ICQ, Twitter accounts and pages and whatever else. Doesn’t anybody have a real life anymore? Or is life in general virtual and online these days?

So why am I writing this blog? Who cares? I don’t have anything to say. My message is nothing. And you won’t get any personal information about me, myself and I. Bromford Bibble certainly isn’t my real name. I invented myself. It’s just for fun and to explore how long I can keep my focus on this. And I want to find out how long I can keep this upright. Can I fill the labels with every day of the week? How many posts in a row? And on which day of the week will I post the most posts? And why English? Nobody knows. Maybe in a former life I was an English butler or an American teenage werewolf. Who knows?

And what else is new in the world? Houses are sinking into former open‑cast brown‑coal mines and future recreational areas, while at the same time dozens of cars on German highways crash into each other in holiday traffic as if pulled together by magnets. If that’s not a sign of the approaching end of the world, then I don’t know what is.

But always remember:
The answer to life, the universe and everything is still and forever
42.

❌❌❌❌❌❌ ❌❌❌❌❌❌ ❌❌❌❌❌❌ ❌❌❌❌❌❌

Today is Monday, the 24th of August 2026.



Sunday, August 23, 2026

Strawberry Mint … Part 2

 
"What has science ever done for us?"  
Moe Szyslak, bartender (in “Judgment Day”)

What exactly do you actually do with strawberry mint, that plant with the small, oval leaves and the rounded serrations along the edges? What exactly - apart from receiving the plant as a gift in a plastic flowerpot, planting it in the garden, watching it grow and spread, and then wondering what on earth you’re supposed to season with it? Should I perhaps not have followed the surely well‑meant advice, and should I not have uprooted everything, stalk and stem, tied it into bundles, and hung it up in the attic to dry, as I eventually did? And should I then have gone through the trouble of painstakingly removing the leaves from the rest of the plant by hand and mixing them with likewise dried lemon herb, in order to finally use this mixture as tea? Where, for thunder’s sake, is the magic book “Strawberry Mint - and One Thousand Ways to Use It” when you desperately need it?

The infusion you get when you pour hot water over the wilted foliage has a light, amber‑like color and a spicy aroma. The tea tastes strongly minty and not too bitter. Still, I have a slight fear that every time I drink the brew, I’m poisoning myself just a little - like back then when I ate the shells of pumpkin seeds because I didn’t know any better. Be that as it may, the fact remains that every time I drink this home‑brewed beverage, I get raging headaches. Maybe I should patent it. The world’s first tea from original, genuine organic cultivation that causes headaches. For risks and side effects, consult your doctor or pharmacist.

Please don’t call us - we won’t call you!

P.S. Panic Room - More Jodie Foster, more sense, and even more suspense.

And no trace of a llama anywhere.

⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕⭕

Today is Sunday, the 23rd of August 2026.