Vernon thought he’d be the first to admit he was wrong if God paid him a visit.
Section 61, looking overseas with misty eyes misses what it sees
Jean Luc promised he would phone the next day when he had spoken to Émile.
On Sunday morning Nsansa had agreed to meet him at church. The speaker turned out to be a Kenyan missionary to Glasgow. They were amused as the preacher enthused about the ‘Livers of riving water’ that flowed from the ‘pleasance’ of God. He had prefaced his sermon with a good humoured admission that his elocution was confused. Vernon could empathise. He and Nsansa had laughed over his attempts to distinguish between the Bemban words for plate and breasts; he’d said he feared accidentally asking her venerable aunt to bring her breasts over to him so he could make sure she was satisfied.
Vernon even gets his Freudian slips tongue-tied
Check out the Nonsense Filter
The Landscape of Being 