itsmeagain

royally ethical endeavour. A fitting finale, mused I, to

are you faffing with there, mean sprite? If you try

never got the chance to sit with me and learn a few finer points of matrimonial harmony, such a shame', declared daddy, as I filmed him telling it...

zillions, dear one, hidden away in the attic in Millford Rd.'What number?' '76. Call in for beef stew and dumplings one day..' At the door was a small, insignificant female, mousy, erudite. 'Elfreeda darling do ..' 'Oh Reggie..how long it' s been since the time we went behind Mrs Flowers' back to take a boat to Henley on Thames, eating cream buns and .....

amaze..' A knock on Major Flowers' door. A sigh, a crumpled flurry of ill fitting blue suit, pink tie and orange braces, these last having been purchased, on the never never , or a promise of stronger spectacles to an eyeless statue, whichever one assumes best describes the situation; ie, an elderly, fading has been army man, allegedly loaded, decides to go 'prole' and scuttles around Tottenham, looking for chic designer names relegated to charity; ' go on Elfreeda', said Flowers, one Tuesday lunch, curtains drawn ,' throw a touch of mud on my lapel, they'll never twig how much brass....

that I am incapable of producing aforementioned Sophie, one of a long and distinguished lineage of Revoltings, of course we are now Revolting Flowers, so double barrelled, so you?' 'Flowers Revolting, old bean, Flowers..

you are royalty, as you aren't actually able...to show a sign of regality.. your long suffering daughter, in throes of debt via the cattery, the Tory induced cost of living crisis...' 'Stop right there old boy...now, me and Rosalyn's mother, we once knew a Bhutanese royal called Sprig o' Thistree, and he solemnly blessed us in a tree hut in Sikkim, telling us we possess....

Russian literature, although Dostoyevsky is great, suffers from an aura of misery and poverty.

deny her the request, though it certainly struck me that it was not impossible for her to press his number on the keypad of her phone. After being sat there for hours, I toddled off home,my mind filled with images of China, Iran, Argentina, Dolomites, Burkina Faso, Bangladesh, and North Macedonia. The latest book I was perusing was fantastic, being Women Travel, a Rough Guide special. The rebellious nature of the women within the pages, made me proud; after all, a bloke who loathes rules meets a book where the protagonists do, is a match made in heaven. Two strong cuppas later, a hard day's work was ended and I lay on the sofa, Man United v Barcelona on the tv , me asleep , the world, I think, at peace. The drrrrrrrinnnnggg of the phone at 11pm , was Rosie, who asked if I had ☎️ rung daddy to relay the great news. 'Aaaahhh, poor gent was asleep, I tried several times', I said, believing she'd never know the selfish truth, and, after all, it....

to the canteen, I had spud soufflé, potato pie, vegan cheeze sarnies and a pear. I went to check on Rosie plus little Sophie, her wispy jet black hair and little black eyes so gorgeous, it was all......

Sophie, in honour of the lovely PC Quinn, who, by the way, established that, ' thank God you aren't having quins'.' Such humour, such gay abandon, such a time...of philosophical endeavour,,quiet reflection on the ills of the world, mixed

I was in a hospital bed, next to Rosie in her maternity bed, and she was holding the most petite bundle of joy......

a female was in distress, occasioned by labour, ( hold your horses, all you who cry ,' by the Tories', since you are wrong, as I mean pregnancy, not our esteemed government. ) 'PC Quinn, urgent ambulance 🚑 for Rosie Revolting -Flowers, she's in labour.' Rosie told me to get ready to lift her from the abandoned taxi, but PC Aclown declared,

PC Sophie Quinn, and PC Iam Aclown, were marching to McDonalds to buy nutritious, wholesome food, when one of them saw a commotion

stop being a wet behind the ears, lily livered wimp for Jove' sake, and get me to a bladdy labour ward..' Our alert taxi driver, Sarfraz, zoomed warily and at speed of light through some grimy, grotty, gruesome streets, with bookmakers, loan shark offices, and takeaways offering stewed Assyrian soup with crusty dry bread, and , finally, he pulled up outside a grotty office. 'Well sir, here we are..only Labour ward left in our capital now Reform have taken over..' 'Christ blaze humanity in fire and soak it in flood, how blithering an imbecile must you be, I am having a sprog here....aaaaaaahhhhh", declared Rosalyn, her sweet

I telephoned ☎️ Russell Fillmycoffers, head of Blooming Babies nursing homes. This man was an ex gym member at my gym, we spent many an hour slugging tea and reminiscing about the girls we both dated at Uni . After the frightful service at the maternity home, I said to his answer machine ,'Johnny Revolting needs help here , we had the most obscenely gross harridan, a nurse not identified by name, but the one with a pet lip, treating my wife like a piece of faeces, ring me...' Well, what an.....

Gorgeous name. Beautiful boy. ❤️

Adorable boy . ❤️ What's his name?

on her merry little...oooooooo the veritable, Dickensian, pain, ...aaaaaahhhhhh' Feeling responsive and responsible, I scurried amicably home, running

, that in mind, ☎️ rang her up. A strange voice responded; croaky, old, woman type voice, reminding me of my great grandmother. 'Yessssss....well dear, she is sorting out this coal bunker for me, and heaven only knows why.....she, err, puts up with..down, Molly, down, good girl...' 'Rosie, snap out of it...

intruded upon a straightforward conversation between me and an old man, well I'll be damned, you needed to.. .

picking up a wet towel, wringing it out, and wiping my

frazzled her lank curls, but failed. 'Have you read much Thomas Hardy?', asked Henry , of Bunty, ' you see, I once shared a rickshaw in India with his best cousin Freda, and her uncle on the grandma's side. It was a spiffing journey, driven through a real Madding Crowd, not...

,said his best ever read had been copies of Doris Lessing, The Notebook, on South Africa, the weird vibes of apartheid

raining..' 'Get your coat,off we go to Pilsbury Dough...