Same sex partnerships, dear reader, and welcome to Fib Sunday!
And what a fabulous Sunday it is. Well, it was. I'm just in the door, mon amour, after a wee trip up North. Blazing sun, temperatures in the twenties and scenery to die for. Back in Edinburgh - low cloud, mist and decidedly chilly.
Makes even the most optimistic of people consider suicide. Yes, I know! What do I know...?
Fib Sunday is late, yes, and I'm a whole twenty four hours late in playing Haiku Saturday. I'm sorry, so sorry. Please forgive me. I don't want to hear, I don't want to know, please don't...
If you don't know what Fib Sunday is, or indeed, what's going on, click here for the original instructions. They're really sweet and with no bitter aftertaste!
1) I take the topic as given in last week's final entry, write a Fib and give a new topic.
2) Your reply to the topic is in the form of a Fib in the comment section.
3) You then supply the next topic.
4) The next visitor replies with a Fib on the newly given topic and then provides a new topic and so on...
A Fib is a six line, twenty syllable poem with a syllable count by line of 1/1/2/3/5/8. The only restriction on a Fib is that the syllable count follow the Fibonacci sequence. An example of a classic fib:
Math plus poetry yields the Fib.
Last week, Phyllis left us with same as Brian's. Now, does this mean same as Brian's is the topic or is the topic the one as left by Brian previously...?
Frump Friedkin and the greasy doughnuts that ate a hole in the chocolate covered tarpaulin hiding Brad Pitt's frozen banana hammock.
...takes the greasy rings.
Not Frump's brown length, undercover.