My goodness, I was quite the typist last night. Er, rather, early this morning. What was I thinking? That is quite a blog for midnight. For those of you who do not know me…last night’s blog is…well….peculiar to say the least. I find it interesting that, even when overly philosophical, I think of eating Doritoes. Perhaps I should re-name my blog “the many moods of Carol” or the “many faces of Carol” or maybe “the many (Doritoes!) temptations of Carol” in honor of such a blog. Nah. I’ll just go back to my “little world,” where it’s safe and finish my incredibly good cup of tea. Harrods makes the best tea that comes in bags (or “cachets” as they call them). Period. Worth strapping myself into a plane and going over the damn pond to get more (even though they sell it online now, it’s worth the trip).
Now if only I could go back to Mexico and make out with the tall, dark, handsome stranger who offered to teach me how to play chess. And, I wouldn’t even need a passport for THAT. Come to think of it, I have a chess set. All I need to do is get HIM to come over and play. HE told me one time he goes over to Hyde Park Bar and Grill on a regular basis to play chess in that little open air cafe. Not quite Europe, England, or Mexico, but, heck, it’ll do. I can almost picture him tooling about in his sports car, his long, silk scarf flowing about his neck and HE sits down for a game. (Somehow, I doubt SHE plays chess. I believe it takes an IQ higher than that of a brick to complete a fair game, as chess is quite the intellectual pursuit and SHE is quite the dumb blonde.)
Makes me wonder who the heck Earl Grey was anyway. And, did he play chess?
Until next time, this is Carol, the Carol in “Carol’s Little World” signing off.
