Pass me the rope
Well Christmas has come and gone again, and every year its more and more like sex, a mad excited rush towards an anticlimax that never quite delivers what it promises. However unlike last year I wasn’t sat warming myself on a candle and eating gruel. I actually enjoyed myself, I went round to friends for Christmas dinner, stuffed myself then had a drink or two. Just the New Year to get over and then…….nothing. Nothing at all for months, I have plans though and a great deal of work to do before I can relax and, well never mind.
I read somewhere that the months of January and February have the highest rates for suicides, I can see why, it’s a boring and bleak time of the year. Suicide isn’t for me though, I tried it once and damn near killed myself. Its also the most likely time to get kicked to the kerb, blown out, given the elbow or politely asked to piss off. Been there too but being dumped is an all year round thing for me.
I suppose what comes round goes round, we reap what we sow as they say, despite my expertise in being persona non grata it didn’t help me advise a friend of mine who over the holiday was given his marching orders from his girlfriend. Poor chap was gutted, he took the love of his life to a party and left alone, apparently she saw Johnny Handsome there and that was it. Made her mind up there and then that he was the one for her.
She disappeared for most of the night and when she eventually turned up it was just to tell her ex that he was an ex, they even drove of in his car, poor bugger had to walk home, it wasn’t far but still, talk about neck. I told him all the things he wanted to hear despite wanting to tell him what I thought about her, but what’s the point, he wasn’t really listening, just waiting for a pause so he could get another whinge in. He saw a decent amount of my gin off too so it wasn’t long before I was getting his life story. It’s a sad fact that as beautiful as some women are they can be so disappointing, sugar and spice and all things nice my arse.
There is the right way to do things and the wrong way, and I have to say Tracy Lambford, you are an arsehole. By the way, should Johnny Handsome object to that last statement, he can at any time discuss it with me, It shouldn’t take long.
I read somewhere that the months of January and February have the highest rates for suicides, I can see why, it’s a boring and bleak time of the year. Suicide isn’t for me though, I tried it once and damn near killed myself. Its also the most likely time to get kicked to the kerb, blown out, given the elbow or politely asked to piss off. Been there too but being dumped is an all year round thing for me.
I suppose what comes round goes round, we reap what we sow as they say, despite my expertise in being persona non grata it didn’t help me advise a friend of mine who over the holiday was given his marching orders from his girlfriend. Poor chap was gutted, he took the love of his life to a party and left alone, apparently she saw Johnny Handsome there and that was it. Made her mind up there and then that he was the one for her.
She disappeared for most of the night and when she eventually turned up it was just to tell her ex that he was an ex, they even drove of in his car, poor bugger had to walk home, it wasn’t far but still, talk about neck. I told him all the things he wanted to hear despite wanting to tell him what I thought about her, but what’s the point, he wasn’t really listening, just waiting for a pause so he could get another whinge in. He saw a decent amount of my gin off too so it wasn’t long before I was getting his life story. It’s a sad fact that as beautiful as some women are they can be so disappointing, sugar and spice and all things nice my arse.
There is the right way to do things and the wrong way, and I have to say Tracy Lambford, you are an arsehole. By the way, should Johnny Handsome object to that last statement, he can at any time discuss it with me, It shouldn’t take long.
2 Comments:
Good analogy re Christmas and sex.
The foreplay starts in September and it takes 3 months for the climax to happen.
That's quarter of a bloody year.
I always thought that analogy meant the study of arsholes. I would have a doctorate in that.Hope you had a good new year bash, I did.
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