I liked her.
She didn't look like this, but one can dream.
Cissa was her name.
Cissa was a BIG girl.
Her command of English was elementary, although she was particularly good at fly-fishing.
"I preefer too speek viv zee tung," she said.
"Oh, GLORY!" said I.
Of course, she never tickled my trout, but she frightened the pants off me
... and that was a long time ago.
Now I can breathe again ...
Seriously, now ...
I am not impressed by Iceland.
- First, it rises from the sea, without global permission, in mid-Atlantis.
- A spontaneously generated people hunts Wales - I mean whales.
- Indigenes invent a language that is unintelligible to everyone else. That's a bit like Welsh!
- They steal our fish.
- They eat whales!
- We have a war. That's the 'Cod War'. Such description is hardly likely to be retained in the memories of those who take twentieth-century history more seriously.
- Iceland invites foreign investment.
- They misuse such investment and go bankrupt.
Here's your worthless change ...
- They accept loans upon which Iceland arrogantly defaults - both capital and interest.
- Then, in 2010, Iceland explodes, whereby air transport within the northern hemisphere is disrupted for several weeks.
- Having failed to bring about the end of the world on 21st May 2011, as predicted by a North American evangelist, Iceland sets off another bonfire.
- The Icelandic Geological Association denies all responsibility.
Now, about my planned air journey next Saturday?
- And Cissa is no longer in my life.
(Weeps!)