So it’s Friday night and I thought that I might be able to get my sentence reduced. Well as I am sure you know we have no parole in Virginia and as we say here if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime. Sadly it looks like there is no parole in the Boss’s heart either so it is another 7 nights in the small house (tool shed) for me. Actually things have gone from bad to worse. Today I was presented with a salmon pink envelope inscribed with the initials CB. “What is this, my dewy cheeked English rose” I ask. With steel in her voice and ice in her heart she replies “Happy anniversary CB”. There then followed a rip in the time space continuum. A few seconds that saw my life flash before me. A time when my normally clenched and rigid colon turned to water and all I could say was “aye aye err aye”. To make matters worse 22 years ago the Boss managed to drop a sprog. Yes indeed it is also FOTL2’s birthday as well. Normally the Boss takes care of this but this year the card read “Happy Birthday from Mummy and no one else”. Not only did I not get parole, my love life is now officially on death row.As if my life could not get any worse my little Canadian friend GenBen is still firmly north of the border (is that a double entendre? I do hope so) and DQ has disappeared into the Carolinas ostensibly on some sort of education thingy. Fortunately Ms. Rita Whiplash has a number that I cannot forget. 1-900 SPA-KNME. It looks like tonight I shall have to let my fingers do the walking or as we say in Quebec “Je suis dans merde creek sans le paddle”.
TCB
1 comment:
Poor pitiful CB! Well, DQ is back -- and smarter than before for sure. BUT, I am not smart enough to figure out why it's "Coffee and Kangaroos"!! That has bugged me for a couple of days now! Guess I'll have to wait until Monday. :-)
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