the abyss means...

Much too late I realised I was asleep. And dreaming.

(Not the best dream I've ever had.)

I floundered for words as my friend, known for his love of atrocious wordplay, started to tell me a bad, bad joke:

Q: You can tune a piano, but how do you tuna fish?
A: You play on its scales.

He said he had been told it by his friend Marlin, who had a deep bass voice. We both knew he wasn't a baseball player as they have high-pitched voices.

I then realised we were running late for the plane to Norway. Much too late.

And we had to walk to Gatwick across sleeting ice.

I dragged my feet along, avoiding the icicles. I kept a stiff upper drip.

My friend was excited about getting to Norway.

"Carp Diem," he said.

"Veni, Vidi, Fishy," I replied.

The pun set on my dream. I wrapped up warm.

"Happiness is a worn pun"

- - - - - - - - -

UPDATE:

Pete has just sent me this.

Gill was also down on his luck.
Fact is, he was barely keeping his head below water.
I bellied up to the sandbar; he poured the usual: Rusty Snail, hold
the grunion, shaken, not stirred.
With a peanut butter and jellyfish sandwich on the side, heavy on the mako.
I slipped him a fin, on porpoise.
I was feeling good; I even dropped a sand dollar in the box for Jerry's Squids,
for the halibut.

TrackBack URL for this entry: http://bluejoh.com/cgi-bin/mt/mt-tb.cgi/898