Haggis the Centipede

He’s bright orange and won’t stand still long enough for me to count his legs. He’s an ugly little bugger is Haggis although no doubt lady centipedes find he has a certain je ne sais quoi.

The Time I met Mahomet

It was while he was serving tea in a Tunisian seaside hotel. Next to the hotel swimming pool was a cool, white-tiled tea-room in the moorish style. We tourists sat awkwardly in multi-cushioned easy chairs, set low in the north African way, while almond-eyed Mohamet, clad in rough but flowing white robes, politely aimed sweet tea from head height into small, thick, cheap glasses which had brightly coloured geometrical patterns painted around their rims.

The Finest Sparkplug Cleaner in the Land

When I was a lad we had an old ‘sit up and beg’ Ford called “Tinribs”. She was a deep, shiny, rich black colour with some tan-brown patches, which put you in mind of a Doberman dog.