This will be the last post I ever publish on this computer. A computer now so slow that I find myself trying to will the bloody thing to load up by spinning the wheel on my mouse. A mouse as in a computer mouse, although both can be rather fond of wheels.
Trying to get to your site and comment has become a frustrating, flustered futility.
So, for no apparent reason whatsoever, I shall publish one of my coolest posts ever to end the usage of this computer.
I'm sure you have observed that fridges do indeed "talk." I mentioned the uniqueness of each fridge's "voice" in a previous post. The above fridge is my old fridge. The above, old fridge now resides at my son Tristan's new place. The old fridge makes a sound like a squealing pig with a rumbly tummy. That sound can now continue to delight my son.
My new feral frost-free fridge fluctuates flatulence factors forebodingly. Yes, in other turds, in other words, it can sound like a gurgling fart.
It also has this uncanny knack of sounding like Penny the Jack Russell dog and modest internet superstar in one of her whining moments.
I heard that whining noise the other day. "Are you okay, Penny?" I inquired. Only to suddenly realise that Penny wasn't with me and I was talking to the talking feral fridge.
A Fridge Too Far
How very polar
Fridge on the River Kwai
Um, nice try
A Fridge over Trouble Waters
It never falters
The Fridge of Sighs.