w.atching the w.orld unw.ind

Today's lyric:
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"Well she understands, and let's the music run from her hands.
And makes her friends all feel so very grand."

Spirit: "She smiles"
From the album: "The family that plays together"

Day I - Scene I:
Master Bedroom, Mr.D. Towers.
Time: 8:30'ish
Rib-cracking nudge from Mrs.D.
"Wazzermarrer?"

"Get up - the hairdresser's coming at 9:15"

"'k, I'll get up then."

So I stumble to the bathroom for a SSS, feeling as if I've been partaying all night (whereas, in fact, I haven't imbibed alcohol for nearly a whole week, now) and by 9:10, am sat on top line, waiting to be shorn.

At 10:15, I'm still waiting.

"She's never this late?", muses Mrs.D.

"Hello, is that Mrs Hairdresser? Just wondered if you were on your way?"

"It's 11:15 this week?"

"Oh" mumbles Mrs.D, realising what she's done to me...

Day II - Scene I (see above)
Time: (see above)

Woof. Woof woof.

"Five across. Desolate. Seven letters."

"Wazzermarrer?"

"I'm doing the crossword, and I'm stuck."

Woof. Woof woof.

Woof. Woof woof.

"No-one round here's got a dog. Where's that fcukin' mutt barking from?"

Remembering yesterday's kick-start, Mrs.D. gets up to investigate.

Woof. Woof woof.

"There's a fat cocker spaniel baying at our Burmese in the garden."

So up I get, and manfully capture said cocker, who is soaking wet from the dew in the allotments behind us and, frankly, reeks of dog.

I ring the number on the wet, smelly collar.

"Hello, it's Mr.D. from Mr.D. Towers, are you missing a cocker spaniel?"

Woof. Woof woof.

"Lo. Wazzermarrer?"

"Your dog is in our kitchen, wolfing down our cats' grub (and reeking).

"'k, I'll get up then."

Woof. Woof woof.

'Kin good idea, matey. Asap would be good...

Labels: Rants