For Yorkshire Pudding, I give the Yorkshire Pudding flower:
That's all I have for now. More later. Follow that pudding flower link, though, and you'll see some more interesting items, including the North Yorkshire Elvis Bus Tour.
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Pudding Flower
It has come to my attention that some of you were displeased with your personality test results. My goody-goody Landlady insisted I make things right, or she would throw me into the soup. (Generally, I like being thrown into the soup, but not when it's beef-barley. Ugh.) So, here goes.
For Yorkshire Pudding, I give the Yorkshire Pudding flower:
That's all I have for now. More later. Follow that pudding flower link, though, and you'll see some more interesting items, including the North Yorkshire Elvis Bus Tour.
For Yorkshire Pudding, I give the Yorkshire Pudding flower:
That's all I have for now. More later. Follow that pudding flower link, though, and you'll see some more interesting items, including the North Yorkshire Elvis Bus Tour.
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6 comments:
I like being thrown into carrot ginger soup. What a lovely flower.
I knew that something tasted a bit "off", and a bit "hairy", with the soup I had for dinner the other night.
Cool flower! What will they think of next?
I know that in west coast America you guys are very liberated and it's okay for guys to give other guys flowers and suchlike but here in darkest Yorkshire we are very traditional. Men are men and women are women and though it's okay to give your woman a bunch of flowers, you would never give your best friend one. So I'm sorry. I cannot accept your gift of a Yorkshire Pudding flower or I will be drummed out of Sheffield pursued by the Gay Vigilante Squad... and that doesn't mean they are gay it's more like they hunt the gay prey. There surely must be other chaps in west coast America you could give flowers to. I've heard for example that over 50% of men in the state of Oregon are gay.
Mr Pudding: I blame my Landlady.
Yes, the Landlady tried to make me take flowers to my teacher when I was a kid. I didn't want to be called a sissy by my peers, so I threw the flowers away when I thought my sister wasn't looking. Later on, I laughed at another boy who was bringing flowers to the teacher. Ironically, he beat me up for it.
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