Turbulence / March 12 2008
Again with the severe weather here in the middle of Great England. When Audrey and I stepped out of the house this morning we were nearly blown off our feet. ‘Crikey!’ I declared, battling against the gale.
‘George W. Bush!’ barked my little dog who was trying not to become airborne again.
In the village, as we were passing in front of the Pennine Hotel – a modest establishment which offers many of the features of a sinking ship: damp beds, swarming rodents, whimpering females – a particularly powerful gust of wind knocked a very tall and very beautiful shop assistant to the ground. She fell backwards and landed with a sickening thump just inches from us. ‘Ow, me f*cking arse!’ she exclaimed.
Audrey looked at me in horror. ‘How ladylike,’ I fancy she was thinking.
Filed under Audrey / English Village Life / Pretty Girls / Swearing
Comments
2 comments on “Turbulence”
Nelson Galaxy / March 12th, 2008 at 2:56 pm
You should have helped her to her feet while coping a feel 
Napoleon Fantastic / March 12th, 2008 at 9:36 pm
Nelson, go take a shower, you fiend.
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