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Saturday, 15 April 2017

In which I mop the floor for fun...

So, Dear Reader, here I am at 4.05am, solitary on the second hand sofa...

Having got up at 5.30 am yesterday to finish a painting and get it in the shop in the hope of flogging it to some passing cove with disposable income, I flopped into the truckle bed in the afternoon for a nap, and upset my body clock.

After that I spent the rest of the day washing the floor. Jeez, I know how to have fun!

Later on I shall fashion a loaf in the breadmaker Boy got me for Christmas AND THEN probably scoff the lot slathered in peanut butter to further enhance my fat, wobbly body. I wonder if they make cardboard coffins in XXXL?

Yesterday, whilst mopping the floor, I suddenly thought about Jonathan Hill. Quite why a boy from primary school should pop into my head I don't know.  Well, I do know really, Dear Reader, and I shall, here and now, bore you with the sorry tale...

Every day I used to walk the short distance home from school alone. Waiting on a grass verge, each day, would be my nemesis, the ginger haired menace, Jonathan Hill...

I can still recall the knotted lump of fear in my stomach as he approached, blocking my passage and began, as he did each and every day, kicking my white-socked shins with his nasty little Clark's shod feet.

Eventually, after months and months of torment I told my Mum who advised me to 'kick him back.'

This I did the very next day, giving him a jolly good thrashing to boot!  He was visibly stunned, I still recall, and ran off crying home to his Mum.

The next day, I was called in to see the Head Mistress where sat the offender, Jonathan Hill and his Mother.
I was given a severe telling-off and forced to apologize to my tormentor!

That was the day I found out that there is no justice in this life.

Years later I saw a picture of the little shit in the local newspaper: he'd married Janet Gookey (widely known as the ugliest girl in school)

I wonder if they produced a brood of ugly, spiteful, ginger-haired children?

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