Floating memories in my mind

Every so often in life we all find ourselves sitting back and remembering times gone by and perhaps weighing up past events against what is likely to happen in the future.

Imagine for instance you're lying there in your bath, relaxing amongst the soap bubbles and warm water, perhaps reading one of my books, when suddenly a thought strikes you from nowhere ...

Which is in fact precisely what happened to me the other day ... ... ...

I wonder if the Flat Earth Society has members all-round the globe? 

Then another thought came to mind, where did the phrase riding a tiger come from? Imagine having a riding school for people to ride hyenas. That would be a laugh!

There once was a hyena which always got attacked by a tiger in the jungle. So it asked his friends, a group of monkeys, to accompany him in case of an attack and to help him in the fight. Sure enough the tiger appeared and the monkeys run away up the trees. The tiger attacked the hyena and tore him to pieces.

When the tiger had his fun and went away, the hyena asked the monkeys why they did not help him. They replied, "You were laughing so much we thought you were enjoying yourself!"

Anyway my thoughts then somehow turned to death. I wondered what happens after death. What if there actually is re-incarnation? Can you imagine? Returning back as a tin of evaporated milk?

It is made from contented cows, you know!

How do the cows know to stop when the tin of milk is full? Do they stop in mid flow, I wondered.

Are there cows, and other animals in Heaven when they die? I hope not. Because I do not want to come face-to-face with the Sunday roast telling me off for having eaten it.

Can you imagine meeting in Heaven that wasp, or yellow-jacket, you killed last summer? It might well sting you in the backside in revenge; because they don't wear anything under those long robes they give you in Heaven, you know! 

And they are open in the back like those robes you get in hospitals. What if you backed off into a cactus? Are there cactuses in Heaven? Or is it cacti?

As these thoughts crossed my mind, I imagined Saint Peter warning me about the yellow-jackets and me holding my legs tightly together to protect my manhood.

Somehow, that thought made me smile and then laugh out loud. What is laughter? I asked myself, but did not reply.

I thought about it for a while. Laughter is a build up of energy that starts somewhere deep within one's diagram, and rushes up your asparagus, and comes out as a loud noise out of your mouth. From anywhere else and you're in trouble!

My grandfather used to make me laugh. He always used to say, "take every thing with a pinch of salt!" Mind you, he made a terrible cup of tea.

He told me once that when I was born in hospital I was very ugly indeed. Apparently the nurse slapped me on the backside and hit my dad in the mouth.

I wondered about babies for a while ... I remember reading somewhere that about 13% of babies are conceived in an IKEA bed. This is surprising considering those shops are normally well lit.

Did you know that some people even name their babies after the place they were conceived ... like Brooklyn, or Carolina. I don't think BMW and Volkswagen are good names for babies though.

As I grew up, I became really good looking. I recall when I worked in London I was stopped in the street by a very beautiful woman who said, "Hello handsome. Can you direct me to the optician please?"

In my reverie, sitting there in the bath, I recalled my other grandfather. He was very well educated and a professor at the local University where he taught graffiti and hooliganism.

He used to tell his students, "Sticks and stones may break my bones. But words will never hurt me!" Then one day a printing press fell on him.

He was quite a character. Once he put a cake and custard in his wife's nylon tights and then declared, "Never trifle with a woman's affection!"

My other grandfather was a glazier. You know, a person whose trade is fitting glass into windows and doors. Once, working in a house he spent all day changing the glass in all the windows. Then he realised he had a crack in his spectacles.

By this time the water in the bath was getting a little cold and it was time I got out and practised my body-building poses in front of the full length mirror. Anyway, enough of me and my bathing memories.
At least they are better than those of yet another grandfather of mine. His doctor told him to keep away from all dampness because of his rheumatism. So now he sits in an empty bath and vacuum cleans himself!

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