Tuesday, 1 November 2011

Drunk (Part 1 of 3)

Oh my god… I cant reaally believe my daay, what a shit one. Man, could this get any worse? I… I mean, seriously, how fucking shit isthis?
I know I wrote something earlier today but after what’s just happened I can’t help myself, this cant wait, I need to tell someone. Has life really turned out his shit? What happened to the good old days, me, James, Mrs P, all sat round watching tele, drinking cups of tea, all laughing at the same jokes. Fuck me if that hasn’t turned into a thing of the past… Wow, did Mrs P make that well and truly obvious.
I need to write this before Kate gets home, when she sees how drunk I am, well she is going to go mental. If I can write this shit down and get asleep before she comes home she may realise I am drunk and prefer not to fight and leave me alone. Oh, I wish I had not had those last jega’s.
So, anyway, I guess it is no surprise to you that I went to see Mrs P. I know it has been a bit of time but man she treated me like some weird stalker when I went round. Fucked up, that’s what this is.
So, and I was sober when I did this (and you will see why I left hers and went straight to the boozer, a man can’t get his head round some things without a little help)… Anyway, I popped round, thinking everything would be peachy cream jelly bean. Thought she would welcome me with open arms especially when it took two different buses to get up to her place. Mrs P lives in one of those culdesac things. When I was growing up they were two a penny but now only the posh wankers live in those streets, with their white painted houses and green green grasses and flowers and bird baths and clean drives and their washed cars. Who do they think they are heh?
I felt right out of place and was rather happy when the bus left me to it in a quiet road and noone had seen me get off the thing. I pulled up my hood as I didn’t want anyone to recognise me and I headed into her road, which was clean and tidy even though it was bin day. Man our street doesn’t look that tidy especially on bin day, with those placky bins flying about in the wind and shit… Well proper tidy, not bad for a street of oldies.
Anyway, next doors curtains twitched like a mother as I opened Mrs P’s front drive gate and walked up the wide path to her front door. I stared back at the neighbour – well she wasn’t hiding the fact she was looking at me so I thought I should out stare the old bitch.
I never got to knock on the door before Mrs P opened up. I turned the scowl for the neighbour into a smile ready for a greeting and chit chat about how long its been – I never got it, no sooner had she said my name I was told to go away and never come back.

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