“Good morning, darling.” Thoughtful Man hovered above me as I cracked open a sleepy eye.
“Oh fuck. Who’s died overnight now?” Yesterday, it Terry Wogan‘s turn. I’m happy to confirm that the ‘Floral Dance‘ didn’t appear in any way, shape or form on Thoughtful Man’s ‘CD of Death‘.
“No, I bought you a present.” A second sleepy eye was dragged open by a quizzical eyebrow. “And if you get up, you lazy cow, I’ll show you”. Charming!
Later, in the Library, after arming myself with fortifying coffee and a wake up smoke, I discovered what my present was. It was a book.
“Thanks, that’s lovely. Where did you get it?” I sat down at my PC, only slightly disappointed that my present wasn’t hot and more bacony… and in sandwich form. I started to leaf through the pages.
“The Pound Shop. I didn’t say it was an expensive present.” Thoughtful Man was already seated at his computer with Clicky on hand should he require assistance.
“Gold Rush! Ha! I remember those.”
“Jubblies… Pacers, Space Dust!” I stopped flipping. “Oh my god. Spangles!”
“I knew a Spangle once.” Thoughtful Man replied. “On the train.”
“Did you give him the name ‘Spangle’?” I already knew the answer to this but waited for him to reply – most nicknames bestowed to his co-workers on the train originated from Thoughtful Man’s uncanny ability to make them snap.
“Yes.”
“Figures. Oh no. No, no, no. Now, do you remember these?” I held up the book so that Thoughtful Man could see. “Texans!”
“I loved those!” I should have known better, Thoughtful Man loves nougat.
“The advert was better than the sweet.” Now Clicky assisted me.
Thoughtful Man stood up; it was time for his and Poppy’s Monday morning nap. “So what are you going to do now?” He scooped up pooch from her cushion, where she’d been quietly gnawing on her ball. “You could start writing your CV. And maybe look for a job.”
Ouch! He had a point; I really should start looking for some work. “Okay but I thought I might write a post first.” I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
“About what?”
“Sweets?”
“Wombat!” Thoughtful Man addressed himself rather than me. “I’ve just fucking enabled you again, haven’t I?”
“Don’t snap. I’ll have to call you Wombat from now on.”
He stomped off. I lit a fresh smoke and peered into my empty coffee cup. I’ll start it later 😉
Roob wouldn’t it be great if we could just sit and write blogposts all day..sigh
I don’t know about sweet talking wombat but today is Grounghog Day and it certainly felt like it I had a real crappy one..I am surrounded by Cocknees who pronounce three as phree and one of them has a voice that would raise the dead..
She was arguing with me about phresh meat…they do like their meat…:)
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C-Ork-nees?
Nah, weir more parshal ta eels…
… jellied, sought, pepah and a splash of mort vinacre. Lavaly!
😉
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Perhaps Thoughtful Man should have provided a musical accompaniment ……
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