This is what happens when I’m sleep-deprived and on Day 2 of a nasty headache. Oh, I don’t mean to mock Australians. It’s just so easy. ; ) Most tongue-in-cheek(y).
Pink Floyd – Wish You Were Here official postcard.
My muse, who wants to be known as Bernie, and Mr. Linky began a series of holidays/vacations together. I had no idea they were lovers until then. But it explained why my muse – um Bernie — and Mr. Linky regularly desert me. When I need them most. Of course, as lovers, I guess they needed each other more.
I digress. Mr. Linky and Bernie went on vacation. They chose a most romantic spot – Australia. (They liked the idea of being “down under” a bit too much I fear.)
They rambled (walk-about?) for weeks in the outback, or visited the local brew pubs serving up fine, hand-crafted beer, Foster’s, along the coast. Most Australians couldn’t understand a word they said: “Accent’s too strong, mate. And g’day.” You would think American-Canadianese had a passport any where. Eh?
On the most recent trip they did send postcards. With the usual clichés: “Glad you’re not here.” Ha-ha. Or as Pink Floyd put it (and they should have):
How I wish, how I wish you were here.
We’re just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year,
Running over the same old ground.
What have we found? The same old fears.
Wish you were here.
It would be crass if I went on the same vacation. Guess I’ll have to go on a spas vacation in Patagonia instead.
PS: Bernie and Mr. Linky – the front desk will tell you I’m not here.