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A recent conversation with my mum that explains my frequent headaches.
Mum got a new book on Green’s Playhouse, an old Glasgow dance hall.
Me:”Do you like your book?”
Mum:”No, it doesn’t have any pictures.”
Me:”There are pictures on nearly every page”
Mum: “But not any pictures I wanted to see. Did they have any CDs about it?
Me: “Yes, they have a double CD of music recorded there.”
Mum: “So I can watch it on that TV?”
Me: “No, Mum. It’s a CD, not a DVD.”
Mum: “So there’s no pictures then?”
Me: “No, Mum.”
Mum: “Ah well, not really surprised. They didn’t have DVDs back then.”
Is it wine o’clock yet?
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