I thought that I would try to paint a picture to set a rhyme to, only I have no paint and no canvas. So I will try to paint one without colours, without lines. . . . . Nick I was relaxing in me duds in the garden the other day. It was very hot and I fancied a beer, not just because I was thirsty, but also because the girls next door were giggling at me and I needed something in my hand. I got up and walked towards the backdoor, trying not to trip up and make an arse of myself. Back in a mo I said to the gigglers, who were still giggling. When I got to the fridge, I opened the door, A peice of paper fell to the floor, It caught a breeze which slowed its fall, It weaved and glided, I watched it all. After the drama eclipsed on the floor, Once again, I opened the door, I couldnt believe, at what I saw, The beers had gone, there were no more! I gritted my teeth and cursed and swore, I took a step back and closed the door, Then picked the felled paper off of the floor, Then slipped on my jeans to go to the store. Then I saw the paper, this time I saw writing, It could be trivial, it could be exciting, This time I looked closely, and it read: You need beer, butter, broccoli and bread.!! When I got to the store, I made my way to the aisle where the beers are displayed. Not to my surprise, the bleedin things were on the other side of the store, so I grabbed a trolley and ventured across the maze of people and avenues of glamour and practicality. On my adventure, I came across idiots and obstacles. The first obstacle that challenged me was two, no, sorry, three shopping trollies! All with bounties inside, parked in the gangway, blocking my path to the beers. They were guarded by two elderly ladies, Dribbling so much, youd assume they had rabies! They stood by their trollies, bragging and nagging, One stood up straight, the other was sagging. The other guardian of the aisle, Mirrored a manakin, I had to smile, The kind of bloke, whos work is always done, The kind thats never late and takes it up the bum. Should I turn around and slowly back away? Or should I just ram them shouting Get out the f*****g way!!! My pulse began to rise and my hands began to sweat, I had to do something to terminate this threat. I took the challenge on, and boldly made my way, I cleared my throat, to politely say, Excuse me, please, can I get through? Isnt it amazing what a please can do! The steel trolley gates began to move and create a passage for me. Not a word was said as the gates parted, just a grunt as someone farted. I had my chance and I kept moving before the gas could escape the culprits clothes, I had to get out of there. . . . . . . . To be continued!
Posted on: Thu, 11 Sep 2014 00:02:29 +0000
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