Up, up uppity up, oh no... ceiling...crash, bump

As the old adage goes, there is more than one way to milk a goose.
In fact there are over 17, ranging from behind with one hand, to in front with an air of mystery and slight surprise.

This blog will be comprised of cliches and tired old sayings, if you see what I mean, because I can't be bothered, you know how it is.

It takes three grannies to hijack a bus, one on bus pass duty, one for the driving and one to say 'Pardon?'

Hey Diddle Diddle,
My mouse is not little,
That cows a bit of a loon.
A bloke on a hog,
Carries currant buns,
And fish, fish, fish
and June.

Two Alsatians are sat on a front lawn, reminiscing about the 'good old times' they had.
'I saw sarge last week, poor old fart. Said they're thinking of putting him down. Can't even chase the pigeons away anymore.'
'That's sad. I saw Princess Tenuiqa today. I laughed at her for having a stupid name.'
'Score.'
'I know.'

Non sequitur.

As I was walking,
To St. Ives,
I met a man, who juggled knives.
And we had quite a nice conversation about the role of the electron microscope in micro-biology. His name was Jeff.

The lack of coherence may have thrown some of you by now, others may wonder if something so incoherent as incoherence could form itself into a strong enough force to throw you, or bowl you over, in the manner of a martial artiste.
Especially seen as you were so prepared, with a good wide quadrapedal stance and quite a low center of gravity. Oh wait, sorry, I was talking to the statue of a pony.

Dolly the dystopian dinosaur,
eventually and egregiously,
forced a few feeble fishes to flee.

'Go on', goaded glittering, gurning goldfish,
Happily, haroo-ed the huge and hulking history piece,
and ate them.