Had to get off the bed to answer it. I'd been half expecting it. I just didn't know when it would come. But, anyway, I figured, as I was off my back I'd might as well start my day there.
Guy was delivering some dripping to the pub in town for me. I'd got his number and ordered the stuff. Leaving the money at the pub. I don't know why he wanted to ring me, today. But, I wasn't going to do anything to jeopardize this first hand source of the holy grail. I Need my dripping!
Anyway, he rang me. I answered. Then, he's saying I should ring him back in ten minutes. No; He'd ring me back ..... Guy was really fucking with my head! Ye shouldn't do that. My head's fucked enough as it is.
And that's how I found myself making a cup of tea. Feeling the urge to purge. And wondering ..... I use my phone on loudspeaker, see? Refuse to put one against my head. That gives ye brain cancer and I don't fancy that. That shit Seriously fucks with ye head!
But, anyway, it all came together in my just woke up, wanting to go to the ditch, aggravated by this phoner mind:
How about I go to the ditch, in ten minutes time. Ring this cunt back and say; " Hullo? Can ye hear me? Good. Fucking listen to This ....! "
And then stick the phone where I did the camera that time. Thus giving this cunt the audio version of my morning time burst of explosive diarrhoea!
Happily, I was able to curb that instinct, though it did lead to me staggering around the kitchen, clutching my guts as I cried with laughter at the prospect.
My wholesale block of dripping is now awaiting me, in the pub. My future supplies look assured. All is good in the world and nobody was mentally scarred.
But; Please don't phone me in the morning!
