Regular readers of this blog (morning Cyril, by the way) will recall that on Friday night I sent God to Grantham. The following day I came home from work to find that my beloved pet lobster, Reg, had curled up his claws and rolled a seven. Having spent the night in mourning, I awoke the day after that to discover that my friendly, neighbourhood heron/herons had all but cleaned me out of fish in my pond.
Well, that was yesterday.
Not going anywhere (see background)....
I had had work to do during the morning so today marks the first day of a week's holiday for me. After a couple of weeks of sunshine and warm weather things have finally broken and I awoke to find that, not only had it evidently tipped it down in the night, it was pouring with rain and the outlook was for more of the same to come in the week ahead.
Going....
Never mind, I thought, I can at least relax. I read the papers, fed the menagerie and then settled down in the kitchen to sup a lovely cuppa, have a nice smoke and look out at the birds and other selected wildlife in the back garden. As I was doing so, to my astonishment, Nigella, my already unstable, giant fir tree, began keeling over sideways, an inch-at-a-time, until she came to rest on my neighbour's fence! Right in front of my very eyes!!
Gone!!
So, that's Reg, my koi carp and pond fish and now Nigella, all in the space of about 60 hours, a time span which mysteriously began the moment I shoved God off to Grantham!! Ever get the feeling someone's trying to tell you something?
Now Pither is a man of principles, someone who has views on many issues and a firm standpoint on each. I am, for instance, a devout atheist. That, however, may have to change. I am bringing God back from Grantham - sorry mate, it was only a joke - and I am, in future, going to spend my Sunday mornings playing the tambourine while knocking on people's doors asking them if I can interest them in the heavenly father.
Ok God, I'm on-message. Now leave me alone - please?
4.2
2.7
8
1.6
0
5.9
Shaggy Blog Stories
6 comments:
I could have told you, Reg, God hates smartarses.
This from the being who created Jeffrey Archer.
Perhaps it has something to do with bad things always happening in threes.
Mind you, perhaps I spoke too soon. Is that a freak tornado you can see through your window ...?
Don't even joke about it, Betty. HE's not finished with me yet, I'm sure. Anyway, how come you're looking through my windows - much as you are welcome to?
Vicus,
.....and then someone you regard as a pal intimates that you are a smartarse! That's four. Bring on number five.
Sorry Reg, but you'll knock on the pearly gates one fine day and find Heaven is not only twinned with Grantham, it is Grantham.
Welcome Delcatto,
Nah! I've been through my brief religious phase. I'm now back with those with no invisible means of support. Sod God!
Consequently, I think my chances of knocking on any pearl-decorated gates are slim, to say the least. I'm bound for the place where it's very warm and there is endless drinking and shagging. Hurrah! Bring it on!
Post a Comment