— RooBeeDoo (@RooBeeDoo1) September 12, 2020
— RooBeeDoo (@RooBeeDoo1) September 13, 2020
*I am not a princess, Clicky! …/looks aghast… *
*/sniff… Sandwich Queen, maybe… Now stop interrupting me…*
*No, Clicky, my pen name’s Roo B. Doo… sounds like RooBeeDoo…*
*Yeah well I’m rather more fond of a shamble than Tiff… /shoos away assistant… Now, stop butting in…*
*/Squints… It’s his pub, Clicky… Leggy’s the gaffer and I fully respect that… Now fuck off for a minute, I want to put the poem in…*
*Oh yeah… Anyone that knows me, noses there was only one giant, I’d take on, Clicky…*
It’s my birthday today. I got cake for breakfast from Google …
*I know! What a scrummy surprise …*
… and Thoughtful Man took me shopping …
*Hardly, Clicky … the local Asbo …*
He takes me shopping once a year, mostly to remind himself why he doesn’t go shopping with me more regularly …
*No, not quite …*
I rather like food shopping, looking at all the product laden shelves … studying the exciting ingredients … riding the trolley … I get rather google-eyed at it all …
“Calm down or I’ll Mary Lincoln you” Thoughtful Man sighed heavily, placing a steading hand on the handlebar as it wobbled closer to a 2 for 1 special on Pot Noodles.
“Ab Lincoln’s wife? I was taken aback and slightly flattered … the wife of a President.
“She went mental and was committed by her son after she fell in with a spiritualist” he replied as we skirted past a group of lads looking for the barbecue and beer aisle. “He invented double exposure photography, though he didn’t get the credit for it”.
I skidded to a stop … good job too, I hadn’t seen the mobility scooters conveniently parked at the entrance to the cat food aisle. “Do you mean like Photoshop?”
*Unfortunately Clicky, I don’t think that’s photoshopped …*
*No, not that one either …*
“I suppose … Do we really need this much cheese?” He eyed the trolley contents suspiciously, “toothpicks, pineapple chucks … tin foil … Hang on, I thought you didn’t want a birthday party”.
“I don’t. It’s in case the neighbour’s child comes over to play with the boys”. His icy squint burned. “Sorry, I invited him. He’s just lost his mother”.
“He ate her”.
“I don’t think he had a choice.” I pushed on toward the frozen pizzas. “I think it was like one of those Donner Party situations”.
He caught up by the time we’d reached the check out. “So you [blip] think he’d prefer eating cheese and pineapple [blip] kebabs instead?!” He fluffed open a plastic bag and started filling it. “You are a [blip] mad [blip]“.
*Please Clicky don’t do it. I’m so embarrassed …*
*Nice job starting that in the right place, Clicky… /pats snouth… You can carry on helping me tell the story…*
*I do not look like that, Clicky! …/thinks… Okay, maybe during the train portion of the journey…*
*I’m just thankful it was Little Sock and not Little Boots, Clicky…*
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