My Quaratbr!

Aww what a cutesie title… for something that’s gonna get dark pretty fast 😉

My fortune– I must consult the stars to find out my fate! (I’d say I’ll be looking at tea leaves, but let’s be real, those are in short supply 😉 ) Oh you thought this post would be serious? Okay then, I can do serious…

*THE NEWS*- cos we need regular updates on how we’re all DOOMED- okay maybe too serious. How about something a little more upbeat? I know, thinking about food usually cheers me up, but oh wait…

 

All those recipes for things I can’t cook because people have been stockpiling and there’s no food left (people have even gone for the bananas!!!)

The TV guide– because even if you can’t plan your next meal, you can plan your next TV marathon!

 

 

Unfinished drafts– yes, I did write this one while staring at the page for a good ten minutes trying to figure out what to say next 😉

 

 

Instructions on how to WASH YOUR FILTHY GERMRIDDEN HANDS (turn on tap, lather up soap, rub for 20 secs while singing happy birthday… see, now you’ve ticked one item off your TBR 😉)

 

The government’s lockdown guidelines– which you will need to read over and over and over again to make head or tail of… annnd still be stuck on (both physically and metaphorically) days later.

 

Messages from loved ones– partly because we love them, mostly cos there’s sod else to do 😉 But on the positive side, mine tend to send me…

 

 

 

ALL THE MEMES! Frankly, the one good thing to come out of this situation!

Annnd I wish I could say this is an April Fool’s Joke- but it seems like this year, the joke’s on us! Also, clearly after a few days of being a cooped-up monkey, I’ve completely lost the plot! Hope you enjoyed this! Now go wash your hands!

My favourite poem in the whole wide world…

I really believe this is the best poem known to mankind:

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.

’Twas about seven o’clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clouds seem’d to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem’d to say-
“I’ll blow down the Bridge of Tay.”

When the train left Edinburgh
The passengers’ hearts were light and felt no sorrow,
But Boreas blew a terrific gale,
Which made their hearts for to quail,
And many of the passengers with fear did say-
“I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay.”

But when the train came near to Wormit Bay,
Boreas he did loud and angry bray,
And shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.

So the train sped on with all its might,
And Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sight,
And the passengers’ hearts felt light,
Thinking they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,
With their friends at home they lov’d most dear,
And wish them all a happy New Year.

So the train mov’d slowly along the Bridge of Tay,
Until it was about midway,
Then the central girders with a crash gave way,
And down went the train and passengers into the Tay!
The Storm Fiend did loudly bray,
Because ninety lives had been taken away,
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.

As soon as the catastrophe came to be known
The alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,
And the cry rang out all o’er the town,
Good Heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,
And a passenger train from Edinburgh,
Which fill’d all the peoples hearts with sorrow,
And made them for to turn pale,
Because none of the passengers were sav’d to tell the tale
How the disaster happen’d on the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.

It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
Oh! ill-fated Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,
That your central girders would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of being killed.

YES THAT’S RIGHT- William McGonagall, the world’s worst poet, is my favourite!

YES- SERIOUSLY! I swear to you this is not an April Fools- I wouldn’t lie to you like last year… I’m not kidding; I never kid… Oh alright then APRIL FOOLS!

(But I really do love that poem- gets me every time 😉 )

Announcement!

Huge announcement- as you may have noticed from my new blog title- I am no longer the Orang-utan Librarian- but the Orang-utan Doctor instead. That’s right- I’ve decided to get serious and start doling out medical advice (no I am not a doctor- but random advice from some ape on the internet can’t do any harm, can it?)

 

Personally I favour medieval cures like wearing a dry toad round your neck and breathing the smoke of burnt feathers, because most likely if you’re feeling a bit coldy, you probably have the black death.

So that’s the kind of thing you can expect on my blog from now on!

Are you experiencing any strange symptoms and want to have them misdiagnosed? Do you fancy trying some medieval cures? What do you think of my new blog theme? And, most importantly, have you realised this is an April Fools yet? :p Comment below!