Humor Magazine

When Bob’s On The Pot He Likes To Read A Lot (It’s A Man Thing!)

By Gingerfightback @Gingerfightback

bobonthepot_hello

Hello Folks,

At the Doctor’s today for a check up on my rash.

As a result of the butter bean stew, I was using the facilities. I always find disabled access toilets a pleasure.  High seat, roomy, easy to use taps and plenty of toilet roll. Nothing worse than having to use the cardboard tube.

I took in with me a copy of Hello! magazine and was reading about Wayne Rooney’s marriage (it was a doctor’s surgery!) to the lovely Colleen. They looked so happy and clean. Liked scrubbed veruccas.

Memories of my own wedding, to my lovely wife Shirley, came flooding back.

The look on the Vicar’s face when her water’s broke! Shirley’s Dad, Vince gave him a few bob to clean the carpet. And a death threat.

Hard man is Vince.  Has ashtrays made from rival Roofers kneecaps and once had a man nailed to the bonnet of his Jaguar for being tone-deaf. Being psychotic and having  perfect pitch is a difficult combo.

Shirley told me he ate his left earlobe for a bet in 1984. Tasted like chicken apparently.

When Shirley announced she was  pregnant, it didn’t take Vince long to convince me how much I loved her. More gatling gun than shotgun wedding.

So, Dinsdale was born on our wedding day in the back of the horse drawn carriage, with Shirley shouting obscenities at me (somethings never change).

Vince shed a tear! The hardest man north of the Tiber, blubbed like a baby, broke the Vicar’s jaw in an act of joy and said “Fuck me.”

They were Dinsdale’s first words. He was nine when he said them. Proud as punch I was.

Happy Days.

Laters

Bob


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