when ends meet and again

so it goes, said sponge, year in, year out, on and on, same syntax.
to go on: on looking back ‘on’, the word, reads ‘no’.
elderly ladies will fall out of windows once more, or twice, will tumble down, go on. get up, swiftly clean their clothes and go about their business, go on, get on with things.
we don’t to worry about that, said sponge, everything will fall in the right place. with breadroll’s agreement they spent the day this way or the other. nothing happened. but that is different story.

apologies for that is what to say when attempting to apologise

what was that?
an apology, to apologise, apologies, i apologise. in general means apologize: defend, explain, clear away, or make excuses for by reasoning; “rationalise the child’s seemingly crazy behaviour but coming to the conclusion that it was just crazy behaviour”; “he rationalised his or hers”; but also: acknowledge faults or shortcomings or failings or blunders; “i apologised for being late”; “he apologised for the many lesser things in life”. that’s me, said sponge, any second now. but if we were to provide them with a detailed account of inconveniences caused, would they feel worse? the same? better?

when counting on people for consistency and repetition

not much use with these people, quite useless as a population, barely suited for genocide, we might get a decent mass murder out of them though.
says sponge in reply to breadroll’s remark one should knock down a corner or two and commit a few atrocities after all this would draw crowds, just look how popular everything is with hitler and the nazis in it —and ends the discussion.

meaning, cowboy, that is when you pay for the drinks

meaning, known what it is all about wanting to you must be, my words, marksman, said sponge.
not know i whot thy spaketh, said soldier said, quath ye thinket m’sarge?
sergeant sarge, never too sure whether being addressed properly or slagged on the sly, pretended to look out for potential primary target, his back to the private, while trying to find his line. i know son, he said eventually and turned slightly, tis bleedingly hard hardship spoken mili’tree spake tis foe sure. meaning seeking is of ours and if thous expect shouting and shanting fear not you shall as us eat with knifes and forks us use.
jolly good, said sponge.

when and how to get up

my phone will take care of that, said sponge, my phone will ring on time. with a phone like this i’m sorted, i really am.
and sorted he was, it was perfectly right for him to say so; having signed up with the company in order to receive this phone along with regular updates and occasional upgrades and to be on the list, in the know and out of trouble was the best thing he had done in a long while.
the best thing i did in a long while, said sponge, the others are thinking of signing up, too.

when soccer stars go semi-private

look, said sponge, is that him?
is it a politician, said block of wood.
no no, said breadroll, it is a lump of lard. just left there in the open beside the carpark just like that; a little lump.
they closed the curtains. constantly being reminded other people’s misery, said sponge.

arrivals when and where

two chairs, yucca tree; radio on
so, when is everybody coming?
we are not waiting for anyone.
i see.

when will they ever live up to it

we should stick to the point, said sponge, i know i keep repeating myslef but the email i am getting do likewise.
myself it should be, said breadroll, you said …
i know, said sponge, bloody typo. —— long pause ——. the headlines are a real pain.
you don’t say, said breadroll.

but when you ask it obviously will end in disaster

sponge: that caught me cold.
breadroll: what? it is obvious me asking that so not might sound a bit boring.
sponge: obviously. they did not bother putting the yucca tree out. see —- [points, no tree, obviously] ——– and i’ve been told to shut up and not go on about it.
breadroll: right.
sponge: what’ll we do now?

© the Book of Sponge and Others.