My name is Geoff Le Pard. Once I was a lawyer; now I am a writer. I've published several books: a four book series following Harry Spittle as he grows from hapless student to hapless partner in a London law firm; four others in different genres; a book of poetry; four anthologies of short fiction; and a memoir of my mother. I have several more in the pipeline.
I have been blogging regularly since 2014, on topic as diverse as: poetry based on famous poems; memories from my life; my garden; my dog; a whole variety of short fiction; my attempts at baking and food; travel and the consequent disasters; theatre, film and book reviews; and the occasional thought piece. Mostly it is whatever takes my fancy.
I avoid politics, mostly, and religion, always. I don't mean to upset anyone but if I do, well, sorry and I suggest you go elsewhere.
These are my thoughts and no one else is to blame. If you want to nab anything I post, please acknowledge where it came from.
Is that Dundalk, Co Louth? Oh…I remember so well doing the pre-marriage course for my first marriage back in 1992. I hope it has changed a lot since then! (Love a good Limerick)
TanGental 
🤣🤣
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I think dog has your number, Geoff.
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He does
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Dog… no sense of humor, you…
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Utterly
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Lol dogs being a tad harsh but he still loves you !
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I think
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Therefore you are 💜
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No shagging for dog – he’s up and around on all fours!
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Yup
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How very dare you says dog!
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He’s very didactic
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He feels it is his duty!
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🙂
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Good one! Gave me a giggle – thanks!
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Marvellous
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🤣
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Is that Dundalk, Co Louth? Oh…I remember so well doing the pre-marriage course for my first marriage back in 1992. I hope it has changed a lot since then! (Love a good Limerick)
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The relevance of Dundalk is sadly just it’s rhyming possibilities rather than the quality of its sex education!! Glad you enjoyed.
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Hah! 😀 … wusses. In my day it took an entire three-day-weekend! 😀
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It was that Monday morning reprise that did for you. Always rushed…
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Heh, 😀 … never enough time for wallowing. 🙂
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I agree. We don’t wallow enough these days. Like hand washing our smalls and using poultices, we’re losing our connections with our ancestors.
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🤣🤣🤣
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Perhaps it’s better you didn’t take up a position in the church.
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I’ve often thought that my career as a man of the cloth would have ended in something loud and explosive
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I’d be more worried about lightning.
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That’s true mustn’t forget the blitzen alongside the donner…
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It is a real thing called “honeymoon cystitis.” I have no idea how I learned that.
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That has to be the worst sort of come down… I’m not sure I just wrote that… still how grim…
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Neither of us can resist an awful pun of questionable taste.
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It’s true, a shame that will surely haunt me…
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I certainly hope you have passed it on to at least one of your offspring. My grandfather gave it to me and me to my grandson. Must keep the pun alive.
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Absolutely. They’d recite it alongside their times tables
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Good father once again.
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