Awoke from a fractured and fitful sleep at 6am. One had no idea that such an hour existed.
The night had been punctuated by strange dreams, one in particular about One’s bridesmaid’s widower and gallons of blood. A tricky one to decipher, and anyway One hadn’t cast a thought in the direction of that particular oddity in many a moon. Gawd knows what she ever saw in that ill-mannered, poorly educated, coarse clod.
Any road up, One is still in a complete ‘two and eight’ about the Ravishing Roué.
Fair took me breath away ‘ee did!
And then One took a look in the gothic looking glass and staring back at One was Aged P.
‘There’s no fool like an old fool,’ fits One like a glove, clearly.
Back on terra firma, One has eschewed boarding yet another runaway train and has opted to remember the line One once delivered to another prospective gusset groper…
The cheeky blighter took one look at One and said, ‘I bet you go like a train.’
To which One replied, ‘Yes I do, but I don’t stop at your station.’