|Is this a cooking utensil?|
|No, it's a bodhrán.|
The evening seemed to develop a theme related to partially-sighted mammals that live underground ...
Is there another term for euphemism?
Moving on, we had at least 10 maritime deaths, some unrequited love, some lost love, an arranged marriage that ended in tragically premature widowhood and a single reference to lust.
There were a few examples of short-term memory loss and the customary smattering of holiness saved us all from an iron-chested lady ...
|"My iron chest you have broken through!"|
How long have I got, Lord?
"I'm all alone!"
Was it just coincidence that Molly’s phone rang as she sang a song about the very essence of silence?
Seriously, there was so much good music that to continue with frivolous images becomes puerile nonsense.
“Death is just another path, one that we all must take. The grey rain-curtain of this world rolls back, and all turns to silver glass, and then you see it … white shores, and beyond, a far green country under a swift sunrise.”
“Well, that isn’t so bad,” says Pippin.
“ No, no it isn’t,”