It is around this time of year, and I think we are all agreed that it is around this time of year at the moment, that you turn to zeugmas - oh no, don't, don't - you know very well you do, don't be so backward. I wonder, quickly and with some urgency, if you recall writing this little fabrication...
"When the man and his wine were drunk and he and his money were spent, wasted, and gone, his carpet and he were smoothly laid before the fireplace. Afterwards, they were both picked up (he again, the carpet after spending a lengthy period in the attic before being relocated in front of the fireplace) by Fifi. Friend to the friendless, wit to the witless, she scored another mark on her bed (the man's name was indeed Mark) that night. At eight o' clock the following morning, a shot rent the air in the room, as will the new tenant the following week, and she and her bedspread, the bedspread not containing indelible dye, ran hither and thither. Although this story (and Fifi, certainly - she was that type of woman) was made up with outrageous licence..."
I think it was around this place in your exaggeration that you ceased your zeugmatic line of thought and retired to bed, humming and buzzing. I say "you", although when I say that I really mean "in all likelihood not you". The truth of the mother is, we simply don't know your identity, or rather, we simply don't know in all likelihood not your identity. Of course, we'd like to ascertain, or find out, the name and hat size of the author, but it won't be easy, it won't be easy. Let us look at the facts. It is the work of a baker, that much is above and beyond. A baker in good health, possibly, and currently in possession of a caravan as well. This is my opinion, though I'd welcome your beef if you have any. But once again we are thwarted by sense. Information is useless without an expert brain on hand, and so our investigation, such as it has decided to call itself, seems to have come to an end. Unfinished, we can call it complete if we wish, no-one would bite us for doing so; indeed it would be valid, joyously welcomed with open arms even. Shall we then? Shall we stop here, satisfied with the knowledgabilitieness of his trade, this zeugmatologist? No. We must pry, we must.

Back to Fent's page

Back to the Netadelica home page