Bloody hell. I'm coming back to Blighty tomorrow & I've got the fear. After two months of working in 42˚ heat, drinking my own bodyweight in Stella every day, writing bollocks on the *other* blog & being told that 1000 years ago is relatively recent, the time has come to bite the bullet & crash-land into grim reality. My sources tell me there's a recession on, the weather's pants, christmas is a-coming yet again, Brown is still in & I owe Croydon Council a fucking fortune. Hmmm... I also shall be working in Newport Pagnell, much accoladed for its exemplary service station on the M1 : Be still my beating heart.
But things ain't all bad : There's affordable 'one way' vino & warm beer to be had (God I've missed that), I can eat something without aubergine in it, sleep for longer than 3.5 hours & light fires at night. Maybe live it up a little in the Big Smoke. See some chums. Watch Emmerdale. Throw a party perhaps : Tis the season to be jolly after all...
Not convincing, is it?
3 comments:
Welcome home, buddy. hope you get lotsa aubergine-your own bloody fault, shouldn't have become a vegetarian and you would've raved about pork and pork-products (i use the term lightly). I came home to a very bad DIY Jim-'ll-fix-it (or rather Ahmed-won't-fix-it) repair in my bathroom and parched potplants on the terrace and still no pork-products....
One good note about coming home is that it won't take you ten minutes of telling someone that their day should be full of beans, full of cream, full of light, and full of jasmine just to go anywhere in the morning...
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