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Thursday, 9 October 2014

In which One is an amazing dancing Claire bear…

dancing bear 

I may go out tomorrow if I can borrow a coat to wear
Oh, I'd step out in style with my sincere smile and my dancing bear
Outrageous, alarming, courageous, charming

Oh, who would think a boy and bear
Could be well accepted everywhere
It's just amazing how fair people can be…

That’s me that is, Dear Reader, that dancing bear…

More on that story later… (Please read in Kirty Wark)

Me and BF biffed off toward the sea with the express mission to smoke fags, eat cake and visit H in the Clotted Cream Furniture shop.

On the way we reminisced about some of the strange meal combinations that Vile ex H and BFP had served up when either of us has been too under the doctor to cater.

V ex H only ever provided crisps and yoghurt,  but BFP has been more adventurous over the years.  In fact yesterday he dished up Lasange with mixed veg. 

NO NO NO   -     DIRTY

But his piece de resistance was surely the kippers and baked beans.

One can almost hear the thought process…

‘I like kippers.  I like baked beans.  That’s it then.’


There are no such tales of the A of the F who is, after all, perfect in every way…

Any road up, whilst this is all going on The A of the F is regaling half of North Dev with the doings of your very own darling Lovely One.

And not, One hastens to add, any swashbuckling derring do or somesuch, no, all of One’s little mishaps, which as you know are legion.

Last weekend his BF1 was treated to the tale of One’s first v lengthy journey to The Manor via Clovelly and the tale of the walking boots, plus other side-splitting scrapes One gets into on a daily basis.

This weekend One is ordered to meet BF2 who has already been given chapter and verse on One’s general buffoonery and blithering eejit status.

‘Twould appear that Lovely One is being wheeled out in the manner of a dancing bear as a general amusement for the great unwashed of North Dev.

No matter, One shall be taking a cap in which to collect One’s grace and favour offerings following this weekend’s performance.

And to think when BF and me were out One was singing the praises of The A of the F in the extreme, in between fags and cake.

We did have a good chortle about BFP, but he still holds such authority regarding fags etc., that we stopped on the way home and sucked a Fisherman’s Friend.


1 comment:

Michael said...

It's the phrasing, the wonderful, wonderful phrasing. I wish I could write like this. Of course, I would have to have a brain transplant to carry off this amount of levity; I am Dark and Dreary all day long. ;)