itsmeagain

remain lost to history..and given the paucity of posts in this excellent story,it seems it's modern life too. Never mind, I thought, sat at a cafe window, ' all is mere..

in a lorry bound for a refuse dump. Bert Common, 43, a council.bin man, heard a loud rasping fart

decided I had missed an urgent appointment with..'The greengrocer..she had some spinach to offer us for our South American veggie fricassee , next week's special..' 'Oh I can do that..' 'No..I love spinach' , said I, grabbing my coat and running 🏃‍♀️ out the back door. 'Johnny do control yourself, stand like a man..you're all bloody Dickens and no damn trousers' , she wailed, while sweat streamed down my furrowed brow. An ugly big sweaty bruiser in mucky clothes shouted, 'ay moit, yaint seen a poncy geezer noim of Disgastin as yer..see oiz on a mishun to bag a noit wiv is missis but onissly eez dared to stop me..can yer help.. '' 'Well, I can give you his address...' As the bloke went looking for our very Reverend Cross, I again thought how absurdly amusing for an old twerp to...

relieved; you see she had been propostioned by a scruffy bloke in dirty clothes, brandishing a two pound coin and claiming to be the last remaining genius of the Realm. 'Oh Johnny, I replied in a rude manner, I told him intelligence,often in short supply, leaves those with least claiming to be better than those with most; somewhat ludicrous predicament: he threw a boiled egg at me, it missed, but hit an old lady full on the wig, good job it was proper hard boiled, anyway he then said he is not really all

PC Mitzel from Camberwick Green. ' Sir we have had a report of a type of rudeness from your esteemed self, towards a member of our clergy, namely that you did, on or about 14:54 on 13th inst of January, said, and I quote, ' don't come all la de da with me,you snake in the grass charlatan, or I'll play Sex Pistols for you'..is it true?' Stifling a guffaw, I

Harry and Bert, which is, after all, who they were..and probably still are. Glad to be rid of them, I settled back down at my upper window, bellowing shrieks of laughter as people bearing mashed spuds and scallions , flitted around looking for...

poured a bit of bike grease liberally onto a spoon, and dollops it in to the bottles. ' Are you 2 guys ok? Do help yourself to some Pinot Biggio..I mean Griggio..or noir if such is your desire..really good oily wine..' 'Hoi moit..warez da priest? Oni if it weren't ferrim we'd a bin away by now..e tells us ter sup beer an all dem fings but weez gud..' I poured a cup of cold bike oil straight down the cretin's throat, hoping it.....

reading and slugging strong tea with soya milk, whilst humming ' Fools Errand' in between riotous guffawing from me. It is so funny

, ever the servant of the Lord, our Cross the Redeemer sallied forth, goblet in hand, all ready to get in a taxi with me when, ' I say..feeling like I could use a tinkle right now. The wine of the Lord may trickleth down unheeded otherwise ', he intoned, before rushing to the toilet. I ran down the street and was soon sat eating vegetarian samosas with chilli sauce followed by cherry cake with soya cream. ' Well that was a spot of luck', I said, hopeful

looked preoccupied in the background. Ingrid Beets, 31, fashion designer from Luton, arrived, dressed in a yellow chiffon ensemble costing 2, 000 pounds, oh great. Rosie felt the sleeves of the custard dress, longing for a job which paid enough to wear a custard coloured dress.' We have not met',

babies and all the associated nappies, bottles, milk ,and food..the sloppy,runny mess that people are nourished upon when new to the world. In the kitchen corner, along with a sack of spuds, lay a gleaming new big spud Masher, with the logo of Spud Eater International displayed proudly on its front. ,'If you can start by washing those mucky spuds, I'll take a lie down. We're inviting people to join us for a spuds and cheese creative event, it's tomorrow at 3pm...we need us to have our thinking caps on, as it will be a very tasty..' She lost me at invites..oh no, who of the plethora of boring boors she knows,will be bouncing into our home tomorrow night. Enough, thought I, let's see if I can avoid attendance on a pretext. Thinking 🤔 back to other

I was.... hahaha...by.my reckoning..a very childish..45...so my dad was no longer with me..it was horrific but was joking about it being as a child...I have a Bourbon rather than a custard cream now.. 😜

I had to look up mooches Kev. Cheers , I learn something each day. 😃 I knew what mooching meant already.

I did. Tough going. When I asked for a biscuit the old man said, ' run along now, 15 more pages of gut busting right wing bull gets you a half of 1 custard cream'. Done me no harm, honestly...I worked for the NHS. 😘😄

being a police officer. ' Your Superiorness, I humbly want to abase myself before you and nudge your feet with my proboscis', he said, before being given a distinction for honesty. 'I am totally innocent ', said I, grappling with the mouldy but intact behemoth of a tome inside the rucksack. 'Bladdy scholar arncha?', declared PC Ittin, ' nun o me moits nor me fellow officers can read, so wiv vat in mind, oi bid you happy Saturdoize', and off I sallied. A sweaty Rosalyn greeted