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

Bromford and Rabbit …

 

- Meet me at the Bromford Harbour Bridge.

* As if… Wait a minute. Dude, did you
 say Bromford Harbour Bridge?

- Yes, llama, I said Bromford Harbour Bridge.

* And you did not mean the Sydney Harbour Bridge?

- No, llama, I did not mean the
 Sydney Harbour Bridge.

* You are not reprising our nonsense
 blockblog post from some days ago
 by picking up the senseless
 discussion about meeting at the
 Sydney Harbour Bridge and the pure
 impossibility of travelling to
 Australia?

- No, I am not. And I still think that it
 is not sheer impossible to travel to
 Australia. A little unlikely and
 definitely not planned in the near
 future, but not purely impossible,
 llama.

* And when you say Bromford Harbour Bridge
 you mean that Harbour Bridge that I can see when I look out of my
 bedroom window, just having to
 stretch my neck a little and turn to
 the left? Is it that Bromford Harbour Bridge
 you are talking about? That
 Bromford Bridge you wanna meet me at, dude?

- That's exactly the bridge I am talking
 about, one and the same, animal.

* As if…

- As if what?

* As if you would ever leave this
 penthouse of ours above the fifteenth floor of the apartment
 building on 666 Whitaker Lane in
 Bromford, the friendly town by the
 bay and seaside, dude. As if you
 would like to go and visit sightseeing
 features of this town that you see
 and use and visit every day.

- You are right, animal. I don't know
 what's gotten into me. Seems like I
 have fallen into some kind of rabbit-hole
 lately.

* A rabbit-hole full of animals, cities
 and songs and lyrics about them -
 even if they aren't really about cities
 and towns and villages, perhaps?

- Rabbits? Are those these smaller
 hares with only a little less creepy
 staring eyes?

* Only as far as I know, dude.

- ARRRGHHHHH!!! Animal, get that
 white magician's pet out of my hat
 and out of my apartment! Now!
 When and why did you let it into our
 home? Get rid of it! It is very bad for
 my hare phobia, as you very well
 know!

* I have forgotten one thing in your
 rabbit-hole, dude.

- That's what?

* Phobias. The strangest and most
 unusual and ridiculous phobias and
 fears that no person ever has or had.
 Come, little blue-eyed rabbit. 
 Uncle Bromford is not well today.
 He's not himself in moments like these. 
 Let's take a nice little walk down to
 the waterside. Would you like to see
 the Bromford Harbour Bridge, little rabbit?
 I would like to show it to you.

- Do you know what NG means, 
 animal? NG means not good, animal,
 not good.

 

🆖🆖🆖🆖🆖🆖🆖🆖🆖🆖🆖🆖🆖

Today is Wednesday, the 13th of August, 2025.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 379 & Part 380

 

Today is Monday, the 11th of August, 2025.

Quiet now, all you furry and feathery folks, the tawny owl addressed the growing group of animals around him.

Growing group mostly consisting of cats, all the cats meowed.

I do not want your shenanigans tonight, said Twenty-Five, the tawny owl, tonight is a night of high culture. Tonight is a night of opera and orchestra. Tonight is the night of Les Pechêurs des Perles - Au Fond du Bromford Saint. If we are all very, very quiet, we might even hear the sturgeons sing.

Are there any fish among us? the mosquitoes asked in terror.

Not yet, said the crickets, but the worst is yet to come.

We wonder why our guru is speaking Klingon all of a sudden, all the chicks wondered.

And the cats continued singing their shrieking cat music arias.

And the tawny owl whispered, That which does not kill us makes us stronger, said Friedrich Nietzsche.

And very quietly and silently eleven ninja-cats joined 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…

🐱‍👤🐱‍👤🐱‍👤🐱‍👤🐱‍👤🐱‍👤🐱‍👤🐱‍👤🐱‍👤🐱‍👤🐱‍👤

"Les Pechêurs Des Perles - Au Fond Du Bromford Saint"

Au fond du Bromford saint
Parée de fleurs et d'or
Une femme apparaît!
Je crois la voir encore!
Une femme apparaît!
Je crois la voir encore!

La foule prosternée
La regarde, etonnée
Et murmure tous bas
Voyez, c'est la déesse!
Qui dans l'ombre se dresse
Et vers nous tend les bras!

Son voile se souleve!
Ô vision! Ô reve!
La foule est à genoux!

Oui, c'est elle!
C'est la déesse
Plus charmante et plus belle!
Oui, c'est elle!
C'est la déesse
Qui descend parmi nous!
Son voile se souleve et la foule est à genoux!

Mais à travers la foule
Elle s'ouvre un passage!
Son long voile dejà
Nous cache son visage!
Mon regard, hélas!
La cherche en vain!

Elle fuit!
Elle fuit!

Oui, c'est elle! C'est la deesse!
En ce jour qui vient nous unir
Et fidele à ma promesse
Comme un frère je veux te chérir!
C'est elle, c'est la déesse
Qui vient en ce jour nous unir!
Oui, partageons le meme sort

"Bromford Boy"

He's an ol' Bromford boy
Lying out there in the street
He's an ol' alter boy
Bound up in leather and chains
That's why I'm feeling so blue
I'm an old Bromford boy
What about you?

Now, I can order in Latin
Make 'em au gratin, Joe
I'm an old Bromford boy
That's why I'm so depressed
I never got the rest of the dream
Just the ritual
Now I'm habitual
Majoring in crimes that are unspeakable
'Cause I'm an old Bromford boy
That's what happened to me

I'm an old Bromford boy
He's hoping he can meet a woman dressed like a nun
He knows there's got to be some around here
Drinking across from the church
A little Father Cribari wine
On a Sunday morning time

Sturgeon Moon …

 
Sturgeon, styrġa, str̥Hxyón of the family Acipenseridae, the owl thought, diving deep into the night close to the river's steaming and glistening water-surface.

Acipenseridaephobia, came to his mind, not knowing where this thought was coming from.

And further he thought, Humans have been fishing you for thousands of years for your caviar and flesh. They have been stealing your unfertilized eggs, your unborn baby-fish.

And under the Sturgeon Moon the owl withdraw his talons of claws and stopped hunting for fish by the river.

🌕🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌕

Today is Saturday, the 9th of August, 2025.

Sturgeon Moon

Sister Moon, will be my guide
In your blue, blue shadows, I would hide
All good people, asleep tonight
I′m all by myself, in your silver light
I would gaze at your face the whole night through
I'd go out of my mind, but for you
I′d go out of my mind, but for you


Lying in a mother's arms
The primal root of a woman's charms
I′m a stranger to the sun
My eyes are too weak

How cold is a heart
When it′s warmth that he seeks?
You watch every night, you don't care what I do
I′d go out of my mind, but for you
I'd go out of my mind, but for you

Shadows Of The Past …

Today we are celebrating something.
Something started August, 8th, 2007.
Something came of age in a lot of countries today.
18 years old - the legal adulthood.
Celebrating the dates as they fall.

Whatever it is... Whatever remains...

Have a nice day…

🆙🆙🆙🆙🆙🆙🆙🆙

Today is Friday, the 8th of August, 2025.

Bromford and Seagull …

»Bromford, dude?«

»Yes, llama?«

»You are breaking the circle.«

»What circle?«

»You are leaving the row. Those birds originally weren't the next in line. Where did those seagulls come from?«

»Out of the blue.«

»I think, they even weren't on your list of possible next animal companion candidates. Where are you, dude? On vacation at the sea?«

»We are always at the sea, animal. Remember? Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside? Seagulls are everywhere. They are inevitable. They come out of the blue, sometimes out of the blue sky. They attack you. They steal your food. They especially like fries. Never eat fries at the seaside on a sunny day or on the roof-terrace, llama.«

»Okay.«

»And do you remember that seagull on that roof near the Sistine Chapel chimney at the Vatican during the last Papal Conclave when the whole world was watching that chimney waiting for black or white smoke? The seagull was looking straight into the cameras filming and photographing that chimney. It was the real star of that Conclave, regardless of coloured smoke. I bet it was carrying Pope Francis' soul on his way to heaven and carefully and critically watching over the election of Pope Leo.«

»Okay?«

»The more I think about it… maybe it was member of the Roman seagull mafia. And it was them - not all those red Cardinals - who elected Robert Francis Prevost as new head of the Catholic Church and sovereign of the Vatican City State, only because he is American, born in Chicago, and America is home of the greatest burgers and fries in the whole wide world. Oh, they especially like fries, those seagulls.«

»What is wrong with you, dude? Where does your new obsession with the Catholic Church and the Papal Conclave and especially seagulls come from all of a sudden?«

»Out of the blue, llama, all comes out of the blue. But today is Thursday, and Thursday is therapy day. I have been dealing a lot with my Larosphobia these days.«

»What phobia?«

»Larosphobia - the fear of somewhere, somehow being watched by a seagull. Not being attacked, not chased, just... watched. Silently. Judging. Just looking in your general direction.«

»Oh, my goodness, dude! What happened to your Anatidaephobia?«

»My what, animal?«

»Anatidaephobia - the fear of somewhere, somehow being watched by a duck? Not being attacked, not chased, just... ducked?«

»THERE IS A DUCK WATCHING ME???

I feel good.
I feel great.
I feel wonderful.

I feel good.
I feel great.
I feel wonderful.«

And high above the flat roof of the little penthouse on top of the apartment building on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside, the seagulls are flying in circles and singing their unmusical chants,

»Mine? Mine? Mine! Mine!«

🆒🆒🆒🆒🆒🆒🆒

Today is Thursday, the 7th of August, 2025.

Bromford and Mammoth …

 

On the dark brown kitchen table stands a round white cup filled with the darkest blackest tar.

»It's not tar, dear«, says a friendly female mammoth dressed up like a diner waitress. »It's just black coffee.«

»And it is the damned best coffee in the whole wide Western hemisphere«, the llama adds. »This is, excuse me, a damn fine cup of coffee, Norma.«

»It is tar«, I insist. »And it is thousands of years old. And it holds the DNA of those ancient mammoths they have cloned our waitress of.«

The two animals are ignoring me, starting a private conversation of their own.

»I have heard he is writing a book«, the mammoth lady says, asking the llama at the same time, »Another cup of coffee, dear?«

I lift the round white cup from the table gazing into its plain black surface like into a mirror. I could swear I saw a young, blonde woman's face on that surface only moments ago, like a spirit trapped in tar.

I turn the full cup upside down and no liquid spills onto the kitchen table. So much for coffee, my ass, my donkey. It is either tar or frozen solid.

As I look again, the blonde girl's reflection - or spirit - is gone.

»Yes«, I can hear the llama say, »he's writing a novel and he wants to call it

'Life and Adventures of Bromford Bibble'.

And I would like to add the following subtitle,

'… or One Man's Descent into Madness'.«

And I cannot stop thinking, »Who killed Norma Palmer? Who killed Norma Palmer? Who killed Norma Palmer? …«

🆕🆕🆕🆕🆕

Today is Tuesday, the 5th of August, 2025.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 377 & Part 378

 

Today is Sunday, the 3rd of August, 2025

Ah, all caterpillars enthused, the town of love, romantic costumes and neverending carnivals.

We cannot wait to ride a gondola through the canals with a singing gondolier, sighed the scorpions.

More like the town of stinking waters and rotting buildings, a group of three pouting cats dampened the other animals'  enthusiasm. And now they even charge admission for that. It's a disgrace, a real scandal. The greatest scam in history.

Have you ever been to this town before? Twenty-Five, our little tawny owl asked.

No, the three cats pouted, but we smelled it from a thousand miles away, this rotten stink of selling out the town's history. Good, that it is going to sink into the sea more sooner than later. Maybe the salty waters can wash away all the sins of the past and present.

Life must be understood backward, but it must be lived forward, said Søren Kierkegaard, thinks the tawny owl and turns his head in circles.

And so the three pouting cats joined the twenty-six crying cats, the eighteen weary cats, the ten kissing cats, the two cats with wry smile, 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 mosquitos, 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…

😾😾😾

"Blue Room In Bromford"

I can see you through a pool of darkness
I stretch out my hand to reach you
I know you are there
So please look at me
How I′ve missed you
How I've missed love
My hand is here

If you still know me
Then touch my fingertips

I see the waters move above your face
I feel your naked hand
Please don′t let it go again

Your sacrifice
That meant so much
Left us with no place to stand
Please let me touch
And let me near
Let me near

"Bromford"

You said you wrote a letter
That you will send from Germany
It’s gonna fly through the sky over the deepest seas
When it’s on the way to me
I’ll be waiting for you

I wanna know what you will say
And if you will say it gently
It’s been a while, I wondered why and now it’s clear to see
With your words in front of me
I’ve been waiting for you

But I will move along
And try to carry on
If there’s no more me and you
No more Bromford

You have held my hand, you have kissed my face
Further on down this road we will come to a place
We both know

I slowly read the words you typed
One time, two times, yeah maybe three
But I skipped the part where you said your heart was too wild and free
For somebody like me
If you don’t want me, then i’ll stop waiting for you

Yeah I will move along
And try to carry on
If there’s no more me and you 
I will go and find a place
So high and far away
I’ll buy a ticket to the moon

You have held my hand, you have kissed my face
Further on down this road we will come to a place
Now you hold my heart in some sacred space
Further on down this road we have come to a place
We both know we can’t stay

So I will move along
And try to carry on
No more me and you
No more Bromford

Bromford and Lynx …

 

»Come out, kitty, kitty, kitty.«

The llama is crawling on the floor looking under the couch, the tables and the armchairs in the living-room.

»What are you doing, animal?« I am asking placing grocery shopping bags in the hatch of the pass-through between our combined living- and dining-room and our little kitchen.

»I am looking for the cat you let into the apartment«, the animal answers. »You know what's strange, dude? You never seize to state that you do not like cats and yet you are hosting their kind over and over again. Is this one another candidate to become your next new animal companion?«

»Maybe«, I answer taking a big juicy bite from one of the apples of one of the shopping-bags.

»I can hear the kitten rumpage now and then but it won't come out of its hiding«, the llama is stretching its neck to look behind the big flat screen on the wall. »And I have tried everything, every trick I could think of - a bowl of water, another one of milk, even a big ball of wool for it to play with.«

»Maybe the cat is in hiding because it is preying on you, animal«, I secretly smirk to myself. »And once you do not look and do not expect it it will jump at you from behind and bring you down all claws in your back.«

»Don't be silly, dude, such a lovely, little kitten.«

»It's a lynx, llama, one of the big cats, one of the wild ones.«

Never before I have seen the llama running out of the glass-door to the roof-terrace and around the little house that is our penthouse apartment on top of the apartment building that quickly before.

In total terror it is constantly shouting, »Are you nuts?«

* * *

»Very funny.«

The llama is reading today's BlockBlog post over my shoulder.

»Funny, but not true. I haven't seen you making any grocery shopping in quite a while, dude. So pack and unpack your bags and get us some food, dude.«

🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓
🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓
🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓🆓

Today is Wednesday, the 30th of July, 2025.

Bromford and Honey-Badger …

 

* Meet me at the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

- As if…

* As if what?

- As if we were ever going to Sydney
or Australia. It is literally on an other
continent, literally on the other side
of this planet.

* What planet? The Planet of
Bromford?

- And it is definatley not the right
continent for honey-badgers.

* What's a honey-badger?

- I don't know. Some animal that
badges honey? Or just another
badger, honey?

* Do you remember what happened
that winter when and since the old
badger died?

- You mean when the other animals
slowly stopped grieving and lucky
memories began to replace the pain
and refill their hearts?

* As if…

- Why does this summer sometimes
feel like a winter?

 

And on the other side of the living-room in the penthouse above the fifteenth floor of the apartment building on 666 Whitaker Lane in Bromford, the friendly town by the bay and seaside a honey-badger badges on…

#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣
#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣#️⃣

Today is Monday, the 28th of July, 2025.

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 375 & Part 376

 

Today is Saturday, the 26th of July, 2025.

HuuHuu, HuuHuu.

What is he doing?, asked one of the grinning cats.

He is trying to get into the mood, said one of the twenty-five first chicks.

Don' you think, grinned one of the cats with tears of joy, our little chicks here are starting to look more and more delicious every day?

There are too many cats around here, one of the snails whispered slowly but with a certain panic in its voice.

And there are more and more to come, one of the spiders spoke breathily.

In some parts of France, squeaked one of the kissing cats, snails are a special meal, a true delicacy.

Add some garlic or a drop of milk or cream and taste will explode in you mouth, the weary cats started to drool.

We have to be very careful, one of the little red birds tried to hide a serious warning in a song.

And while the cats started a joyous dance Twenty-Five, our little tawny owl, let out a final HuuHuu for the day.

And those who were seen dancing, the owl said, were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music, said Friedrich Nietzsche.

And twenty six crying cats joined the eighteen weary cats, the ten kissing cats, the two cats with wry smile, 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 mosquitos, 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…

😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿

😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿😿

"Bromford"

The days arrive over the mountains
They never lie and I never doubt them
…. and here I am

Another storm comes down like a volcano
I should know by now, they’re never the same though
…. but here I am

There are bridges that i’ve burned
And teachings that I have learned
Still the time flies like a bird in the wind

And now the december moon; guess I keep getting older
Maybe someday soon all of this could be over
…. well here I am

There are bridges that I should burn
And more lessons that I could learn
Still the days go by like an old western film

Hold me close, don’t let me go

I would never believe this if I didn’t see it
I don’t know where i’d be if I had stopped myself dreaming
If this is my Bromford then i’m never leaving…

Hold me close, don’t let me go

"Bromford"

Fallen fallen fallen
is Bromford the great!
Space is getting bounded,
time is getting late!

Masters fall and wonder,
people rise and wait
Fallen fallen fallen
is Bromford the great!

You don't need a coin,
I don't have to shine
We don't know the reason

But I need you madly
and you need me too
and we need each other...
and we need each other...
and we need each other...

Fallen fallen fallen
is Bromford the great!
Space is getting bounded,
time is getting late!

Masters fall and wonder,
people rise and wait
Fallen fallen fallen
is Bromford the great!

You don't need a coin,
I don't have to shine
We don't know the reason

But I need you madly
and you need me too
and we need each other...
and we need each other...
and we need each other...

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 373 & Part 374 / Happy BlockBlog's Day ...

 

Today is Friday, the 18th of July, 2025.

Hey, here is the song - the cover version actually - I wanted you all to listen to, called out Twenty-Five, our little tawny owl, suddenly all awake. And I am looking at you Anjushka Blackbird.

All the little chicks formed one fluffy yellow feather ball.

Did you know there was a blackbird among us? they whispered to the little red birds.

Our guru is losing it, all the cats grinned maliciously.

🎵 Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly 🎵

Who is singing now? one of the penguins wanted to know.

Must be one of the ants, the twenty-two mosquitos grinned.

🎵 Ants singing in the dead of night
Take these broken mandibles and learn to cry 🎵

And Friedrich Nietzsche said, And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you, said the little tawny owl.

And eighteen weary cats joined the ten kissing cats, the two cats with wry smile, 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 mosquitos, 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…

🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀
🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀
🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀🙀

"Mansions Of Bromford"

Well, it's a pretty bad place outside this door
I could go out there but I don't see what for
And I'm happy living in the dark on the edge of my mind
And it's nobody else's business

Now it's just me, myself and the secrets that
Live within the walls of the mansions of Bromford

Well, the city's on fire, you can smell the flesh
And the screams like dogs in the wilderness
And where all the poor souls go looking to mend their hearts
Like it's everyone else's business

And at best they'll find the secrets that
Live within the walls of the mansions of Bromford

Well, he's gone out again and left you all alone
Well, come on over, I'm always home
And where all the poor souls go looking to mend their hearts
Well, I do mean to make it my business

And it's just me, myself and the secrets that
Live within the walls of the mansions of Bromford

"A Suitcase In Bromford"

Paris has its Boulevards and bridges o'er the Seine
Naples has its chaos and its islands in the bay
And Barcelona nearly became an exception
But for me Bromford is still the one

I still have a suitcase in Bromford
That's why I go there whenever I can
The memories of times gone by
Are all inside that suitcase in Bromford

I still have a suitcase in Bromford
It just stays there and that makes its own sense
To make the trip's always ok
If I have the urge I can just go back again
Go back again, go back again, go back again

The Tiergarten, the old Funkturm, the streets 'round Bahnhof Zoo
The Ex & Pop, the Risiko, up the whole night through
Kottbusser Tor, the Grunewald
The Wall, the Schlachtensee
Bromford was so wild
I can't forgot those days

 

 

Today is BLOGSDAY !!! 

Happy 16th Anniversary !!!

Bromford and Hypno-Toad - Part 3

 

»What is going on, dude? There is only one toad left.«

»You don't say.«

»What happened to the other one?«

»I think this one here kind of absorbed the other one.«

»That's strange and weird. Dude? Bromford? Bromford, dude? Are you alright?«

*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣*️⃣

Today is Sunday, the 13th of July, 2025.

ALL GLORY TO HYPNOTOAD !!!

Two-thousand-eighteen Shades Of Bromford - Part 371 & Part 372 / Buck Moon ...

 

Today is Thursday, the 10th of July, 2025.

Knowledge is power, said Francis Bacon, said Twenty-Five.

Mmh, I like bacon, said one of the sixteen cats with tears of joy.

And I like being part of the group of only predators in this caravan of ours, whispered one of the cats with wry smile.

Mr. Twenty-Five, Sir, one of the chicks approached our little tawny owl. Shouldn't we give our contestants a little hint about at least one of today's cities?

Twenty-Five, the little tawny owl, was half asleep.

What contestants? What hints? he yawned.

The City Song Quiz? the chick continued. One of the two might be a little hard to find out.

The city's name is also one of our neighbour-planets, said Twenty-Five sleepy. Is that enough of a hint.

And the other is a bomb, one of the bats added mischievously, a sex-bomb.

Do we need an explicity warning? one of the ladybugs wanted to know.

And meanwhile ten kissing cats joined the two cats with wry smile, 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 mosquitos, 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…

😽😽😽😽😽😽😽😽😽😽

"Bromford Returns"

Well, the fire of a thousand lost mornings
Was raging in the corner of the room
And a storm came in like a warning
It's a shame she has to leave so soon

We had been talking about the old days
And her long lost wedding gown
And I did not dare to mention
That we were better than somehow

She asked me where I've been hiding
If my dreams were still hers to burn
I told her that I've been happy
Waiting for Bromford to return

That city is a graveyard of ambition
With headstones of tears and of blood
I wonder if we made the right decision
Is this the future you were thinking off?
Is this the future you were thinking off?

See last I dreamed of the ocean
A silver beach and a silent moon
You were just about to give me your reasons
As the waves became my bedroom

Yeah, I heard the seasons change slower
When you try to watch them turn
It's easier to lose track of time
When you're waiting for Bromford to return

See, some nights I dream that I'm in New York
And some nights I dream that I am dead
Some days it feels so easy
And other days I just stay in bed

Six years ago she sent me a message
And I only just replied
All she said was, "How are you doing?"
All I said back was, 'I'm fine"

Yeah, I heard the seasons change slower
When you're living inside an urn
It's a good place as any
To be waiting for Bromford to return.

Those fires feel more like stars now
Raging for eternity
And those memories are shrouded in dust now
Deformed like ancient oak trees

My mother said all she wants is answers now
I told her that all I want is peace
She said, "That's because you have young children
And someday you will think like me"

So as time is our witness
Let us try to forget what we have learned
And I'll meet you at the San Domenico
And we will wait for Bromford to return

Have peace, have peace my friend
Until we meet again
Have peace, have peace my friend
Until we meet again

  

"Marilyn Bromford"

Man: 

(jarring chord)...Well, this time you've crawled too far!

Woman: 
Oh, Jake, Jake! Why did you do it? You could have destroyed the tapes and none of this leftist would have happened!

Interviewer: 
An excerpt from Carl French's latest film. Carl, we're all a little mystified by your claim that your new film stars Marilyn Bromford.

Carl French: 
It does, yes.

Interviewer: 
Who died over ten years ago?

Carl French: 
Uh, that's correct.

Interviewer: 
Are you lying?

Carl French: 
No, no, it's just that she's very much in the public eye at the moment.

Interviewer: 
Does she have a big part?

Carl French: 
She is the star of the film.

Interviewer: 
And dead.

Carl French: 
Well, we dug her up and gave her a screen test, a mere formality in her case, and...

Interviewer: 
Can she still act?

Carl French: 
Well...well, she-she's still has this-this enormous, ah-ah, kinda indefinable, uh...no.

Interviewer: 
Was decomposition a problem?

Carl French: 
We did have to put her in the fridge between takes.

Interviewer: 
Ah, what sorts of things does she do in the film?

Carl French: 
Well, we had her lying on beds, lying on floors, falling out of cupboards, scaring the children, ahm...

Interviewer: 
But surely Miss Bromford was cremated?

Carl French: 
Well, we had to use a stand-in for some of the more visible shots.

Interviewer: 
Ah! Uh, another actress.

Carl French: 
Dead actress. But Bromford was in shot the whole time.

Interviewer: 
How?

Carl French: 
Oh, in the ash tray, in the fire grate and vacuum cleaner...

Interviewer: 
So Marilyn does not appear in the film?

Carl French: 
Not as such.

Interviewer: 
Mr. French, you're one of the film world's most arrogant queens. I mean not just homosexual or gay or anything, I mean you are a raving queen.

Carl French: 
Well, yes.

Interviewer: 
I mean, a real screamer, a real "Whoops! Get out! Don't mind me, dear!" limp-wristed caricature.

Carl French: 
Is that not in order?

Interviewer: 
No, no, that's fine. And I understand that you married the beautiful black heiress Hueyna Tannoy partly for the publicity but mostly to cover up the fact that you prefer going out with little boys.

Carl French: 
Look, really!

Interviewer: 
Carl, you're an offending little poof, a mincing gay-bar loiterer, a whinnet-covered walking perfume shop and an evil perverter of innocent little boys!

Carl French: 
What!? Really! Is this part of the interview?

Interviewer: 
No, no, I just wanted a few contacts.

Carl French: 
Well, well, shouldn't we be talking about the film?

Interviewer: 
We've been off the air for ages. Now, where'd you find them?

Carl French: 
Look, I think we are still on the air.

Interviewer: 
Oh, sod the f***ing air! I just still get locked up with that sort of thing.

Carl French: 
What about the film?

Interviewer: 
Just a few addresses, please...

Carl French: 
Look, we got James Dean in it, in a box!

Interviewer: 
I-I can turn the microphone off if you...

Carl French: 
And bits of Jayne Mansfield...

Reporter: 
Well, ah, back here at the classic, I have good news that Vincent Wong, as horribly mutilated though he is, his partly dismembered shoulder bound together with an old top hat, has managed to select the correct reel and we are back with Monty Python and the Holy Grail..once again.

🌕
🌕🌕🌕🌕
🌕🌕🌕🌕
🌕

The owl is not what it seems.

Buck Moon

Sister Moon, will be my guide
In your blue, blue shadows, I would hide
All good people, asleep tonight
I′m all by myself, in your silver light
I would gaze at your face the whole night through
I'd go out of my mind, but for you
I′d go out of my mind, but for you


Lying in a mother's arms
The primal root of a woman's charms
I′m a stranger to the sun
My eyes are too weak

How cold is a heart
When it′s warmth that he seeks?