Hello,
I hope you enjoyed Christmas.
I got a new ointment for my rash, the box set of Smokey And The Bandit and a jumper. I wore the jumper down to the Pickled Filtrum for the traditional Xmas lunchtime pint. My mate Stabman used it to wipe blood up from the pub floor. He saw a man drinking Guinness. He has a thing about people drinking Guinness in confined spaces does Stabman. This and his psychotic condition make for uneasy bedfellows.
It was nice to have our son Lawrence home from the Young Offenders Institute for the day. You should have seen his face when he unwrapped the Ankle Tag cover Shirley had knitted for him! Although he appreciated the crafty stash pouch hidden in Santa’s beard. Thinks of everything does Shirl.
As I nipped in to the smallest room to unburden myself of the Brussels, Shirl stops me at the door, thrusts a can of Haze “Scents Of The Forest” into my hand and said, “Use this and get yer arse into town in five minutes.” This didn’t give me the time to study racing form. I had to settle on Substance Abuse in the 2.30 at Kempton (I thought Lawrence being home was an omen regarding drug use). It romped in seventh.
Why town? For some reason Shirley wasn’t too impressed with my gifts of a toasted sandwich maker and a wind up torch. Handy, practical and self cleaning gifts never seem to go down well. But I should have learned after the mobile dishwasher I bought last year.
But at least I kept the receipts and didn’t have the need of Stabman’s intervention in Argos last year. That was messy.
Laters.
Bob
You can read more of Bob’s musings whilst on the pot here and here. Your lives will be infinitely richer for doing so.
