A Bog.

“Hiya Ethel.”

“Oh, hello Sid.”

“Hey Ethel, do you mind if I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course not Sid, we’re friends aren’t we?”

“Of course. So, how old are you?”

“Old?”

“Yeah, old.”

“I’m not telling you that”

“No?”

“No.”

“Sure?”

“No.”

“But we’re friends.”

“No.”

“I was only curious.”

“No.”

“Give me a clue?”

“No.”

“Couldn’t do any harm for me to know would it?”

“No. But I’m not telling you on principle. A gentleman does not ask a lady’s age.”

“I did.”

“Exactly. So I’m starting to think you are not a gentleman.”

“Well… I’m not. I’m a beetle.”

“You have gone down in my estimations.”

“Lower than a bog?”

“I’m not telling you.”

“Three?”

“No.”

“Four?”

“No! Stop it!”

“Not five?”

“Hmmphhh…”

….
…….
…………..

FFFWD>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

A lab in The Natural History Museum

“Hey Simon, the carbon dating shows these beetles in the specimen drawer are older than we thought.”

“The ones from the bog?”

“Yeah… the label says they were collected about 50 years ago…. but they’re older than that… remarkably older. About 3785 years it says.”

“Wow!”

You bastard, Sid

“Who said that?”


Thank you for visiting Scribblans today. Sorry it probably wasn’t very good.
This bit of text here used to be me wittering on and effectively begging you to share the post, but I have decided not to bother with all that for 2021. Most people ignore it anyway.