No, it's not Swine Flu. Well, it might be; but then again it may just be an inevitable consequence of over exuberance.
The hoards have descended to shower me with ill deserved cash and I am as delighted as a sand boy who has just constructed a sand castle and bombarded all foreign speakers with beer cans, discarded toiletries, and the pile of the Manchester Guardian that a Southern English Type decided to cram into one of my bin liners.
They're shifty, these tourists. They like to avoid you unless they've got something really serious to complain about: like condensation drips under the toilet cistern, midges getting in their hairnets, or the lack of a decent pint from Burton on Trent (which is 400,000 miles away).
I am a living saint. I am the living personification of equanimity. I will be living somewhere else soon.
I fear that toilet seat complications will follow me there. There will be no escape from the wobbling toilet lid, microwave complications, and too many wifi signals or none at all.
I think I'll retire to a cave and take up macrame.
I would do, if I didn't love what I do. I make a living watching people enjoying themselves.
I am a living saint. I am the living personification of equanimity.
ReplyDeleteShould I post this as your “Men of Infomaniac” bio blurb?
Sorry to hear about your 'toilet seat complications' Garfer.
ReplyDeleteYou could try some kaolin and morphine.
Or a butt plug.
ReplyDeleteI adore you but I wonder are you ever not under the weather? Maybe you should stop being so saintly and be a cheerful self centered bitch - it's never done me any harm!
ReplyDeleteMJ
ReplyDeleteI am an international man of mystery.
Kaz
Isn't that illegal? I'll stick to
my Benylin thanks.
Piggy and Tazzy
Get tae fuck ya shortarse Jock poofer.
EmmaK
I get a halo when I hear the word kerching.
You will acquire followers and be regarded as the living form of the divine. I will worship at your feet and gaze at your adoringly. And you can't get a decent pint from Burton on Trent anymore.
ReplyDelete