Pond ponderings...

May I begin this post by offering my most sincere (snigger, snigger) apologies for the lack of froggy updating that has been occurring of late. I have been suffering itchy flipper to get to the keyboard but as one has yet to be invented for use by the aforementioned flippers I have had to wait for the male-human to get off his backside (Which he occasionally does just before it emits a botty-burp...But I digress). The delay, dear reader, is due to the male having some kind of virus which he got rid of eventually but shared with the female human who returned it from whence it came in a slightly different strain. This meant several weeks without alcohol for the pair of 'em but c'est la vie as they say in Venezuela when they speak French.


So, I have had several weeks to ponder all sorts of odd stuff and play couch-frog in front of the TV. My first pondering stems from an advert for some human called Sarah Jessica Parker (or is it Porker, I'm not too sure). Anyway, she is trying to flog her perfume with the line, "Feel good on the inside and smell lovely on the outside." or something vaguely similar. Can't these advertisers be more honest. Surely, "Okay on the inside and looking like a dog on the outside" is a tad more honest. I mean, how did this long-faced streak of American misery ever think she was attractive? Here is what attractive really looks like...




Yes, it's me sans dickie-bow tie at the humans' wedding in my senior position as Best Frog and yes, I am aware of how ravishing I look...

So, keeping with the American theme, I hold the Yanks responsible for two other annoyances which were spotted whilst on my enforced sojourn on the couch. Firstly, why can't the Americans pronounce the word 'harassment' properly? The stress is on the first syllable, 'har', and not the second, 'ass'. Even more irritating is that the BBC is beginning to pronounce it the American way. The same goes for the number after nineteen. Should anyone from Americky or the Beeb be reading this high quality blog then please note the number is 'twenty'. See. Quite simple to read and say. IT IS NOT 'TWENNY'!

How about a couple of modern-day oxymorons? Rap music. When was rap ever music. Some (invariably) coloured gentleman or lady talking over a computer-generated backing track about the hard life they lead whilst fleecing gullible teenagers of their hard-earned readies to fund lavish lifestyles filled with badly dressed ho's (the modern vernacular, I believe) and tasteless lumps of gold strapped to themselves. A definition of 'bling': It is what morons call jewellery.

Oxymoron number two: Next year Liverpool is the European City of Culture. Methinks you would find more culture in a 3 month old lump of Rocquefort cheese. Liverpool gave us the Beatles and I still haven't forgiven them for that. What can the city have that could be considered as 'cultural'? A high ratio of car-thieves? That strange unintelligible accent? I don't get it.

Okay, my final whinge of the post; Australians. Been there, nice country, nice people, not bad at sport and rather out-going. Here's me at their zoo in Sydney...















But why oh why after all their sporting successes have they yet to devise a new chant. Aussie, Aussie, Aussie. Oi. Oi. Oi., is lame and boring. Surely the land that produced Rolf Harris and Dani Minogue could do better than that?


Wow. I feel quite worn out after that. Time for a slurp of some plonk from my own personal vineyard...Presenting Le Froglet wine...



Those with a keen eye will note the gold-embossed silhouette of yours truly on the label. As my fame precedes me I have also been offered the chance to have a photograph taken on the set of the next Harry Potter film. I'll let you know...

G#.

On that note, I bid thee adieu, frog fans.

Kerm
XXXX