Saturday 21 March 2009

Out of hand....

Had to work in the shop at the rugby match today. Was really pissed off. What is it with this rugby shit? I mean who really cares? Apart from the 82,000 who attended that is. Bloody feet are killing me and had to do bloody 12 till 8 pm. I mean sod this!

For some insane reason I walk home. Its actually less hassle than trying to get a bus in the high street thats full of pissed rugby fans urinating by Waterstones. Whats the point of drinking all that bloody beer?

I walk along the main road yearning for 10 smokes. But it has to be Smokes from Fatso somehow, or they would lose their significance. I haven't seen Him all day and feel he deserves
a kick up the arse.

Disappointed to see that Fatso was not in residence, the idle git. It was his Son who, I must say, was not remotely fat, in fact he was extremely svelte. This scores points against him from the start. I scowl at him for this reason, the selfish git and he, in turn, scowls back.

"Where's that fat...your Father," I ask innocently.

Son gives me a deep and significant look.
"upstairs resting. Suffering from mental and physical exhaustion"

"Oh? Had to fill up an extra shelf did he?"
(And i bet he even did that wrong)

"If you must know," he hissed, "The shop was innudated today with Movie fans and Bloggers. One even brought their bloody dog for Gods sake!"

"Oh?" I ask innocently "And how is Fa....your father now?"

"Fat... I mean Dad is in a state of delirium . Muttering things about that Bloody Woman and
Restraining orders.."

He gave me my change coldly. The silence like a huge weight between us.

"And how did you do?" , I venture tentatively.

"Not bad. Tenner a photo, great demand for White Sliced and Superkings, and 3 coach parties booked for next week!"

I go back out into the street. Broken glass crunches beneath my worn cheap soles.
They'd need a bloody wide-angled lense, I tell you.

10 comments:

The Accidental Fan said...

I've just been told that I make pig-snort sounds when I laugh as hard as I did reading your "fatso" tag.

Tim Atkinson said...

Hey, Jenny - are you on commission?!

French Fancy... said...

Bloody rugby (actually I think I like it slightly more than football) - but then we don't watch either in this household.

Have you exchanged contracts yet?

Chrisy said...

You're fabulous. I'm a fan of Henry and his mum, and have lurked a bit. My name's Chris and it's nice to meet you.

Jennysmith said...

Hi Accidental Fan, thank you so much for visiting and your lovely comment. Will get stuck into your blog too.

You must be joking, D, if you think i can squeeze anything out of that tight git!

Hi FF. No, exchanging is some way off i suspect. The surveyor is due to come round tuesday - help! He's going to find so many things wrong eg i can smell mildew in Son's room. So wah!!

Hi Chris. So lovely to meet you too. Please, lurk all you like.
I love seeing new people on here. And thanks for your lovely compliment. xxxx

Suburbia said...

Hee Hee! Had to read it twice!

S x

Polly said...

This house is Rugby mad - meaning my husband is rugby mad (he is a coach) and makes us all suffer through his on season which then seems to end with post season celebrations which seems to end when pre-season training starts which ends when its back to on season.......

Henry the Dog said...

Brilliant - absolutely brilliant.

"One even brought their bloody dog for Gods sake!"

Ha ha ha ha ha......

I guess not everyone would understand this post, they'd have to have got up to date about Fatso, but it could be a running saga couldn't it? A bit like a surreal soap.

Love ya xxxxx

PS: Mum sends kisses too

Chairman Bill said...

One should never urinate by Waterstones - all that glass. Accessorize is much better.

Anonymous said...

You should write a book Fatso. I could see it selling.