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Tuesday, 23 September 2014

In which One hangs out the flags…

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Nearly finished, Dear Reader.  A black and white ink drawing taken from one of the A of the F’s magnificent photographs. 

The finishing touches shall be a smidgeon of red hither and thither, taking the form of a line of red flag bunting.

Shall One hang out the aforementioned flags or nay?  A dilemma that One has stewed up in One’s fertile imagination since returning from the A of the F’s gaff on Monday.

‘Do you think there is a Bunnage verb?’ enquired One, reclining with an espresso and a fag, having received the first of the day’s Bunnage invitations from lonely, toothless, retired gigolos.

‘What? Like: I bun, you bun, he buns, she buns, and all that,’ enquired the spectacle attired, Sudoku fiddling A.

(see what fun the elderly have under the quilt of a Sunday morning, children?)

One proceeded to inform the A of the F that One’s bunnage invitations had dropped off rather sharply of late.

‘I don’t even bother to reply now,’ says One, ‘I just delete them straight away.’

‘Oh I think you should reply,’ said he, ‘Just a polite one line refusal should suffice.’

So, One set about Bunnage deflection for the next two or three hours (takes ages, One’s irresistible)

By the time One had pondered this instruction, which on the face of it seems fairly reasonable, since the poor old saps online have probably had their fair share of shite thrown at them over a long, solitary existence, One had grown the instruction into a ghastly, fiendish plot.

What if the A of the F is secretly planning to throw One back into the Bunnage pot?

He did opine, at the weekend, that he is partial to a cream tea.  That’s the slippery slope, that is, Dear Reader.

And anyway, having been polite with One’s refusals the ‘bun’s out of the bakers’ so to speak and they’re coming in thick and fast.

‘Cast such vile thoughts from your mind,’ Lovely One, I hear you chorus, Dear Reader, ‘The A of the F won’t chuck away the chance of having his buns buttered on both sides by you, you fool!’

Very well, red flags it is then.

After all…

‘You’re the bun that I want.  Ooo Ooo Ooo’

Olivia Newton John 

 

 

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