So I gets home...
And immediately ripped off my kit and dived into the
clearest of blue water and swam with dolphins and sharks (but they didn't bite
me) and fish the colours of the rainbow.
And fought off marauders and pirates and capitalists and
communists and people who waggle fingers, thinking they're the moral arbiters
of our lives.
And once I got out of the water and dried off, I realised
that someone had not only stolen my passport but they'd also stolen my 1962
Ferrari Super-America. So I ran, baby. I ran and tracked those cunts down.
And I caught them in their villa and beat them to within an
inch of their lives.
And then I drank their wine, their vodka, their finest
Calvados brandy.
And I made love to every woman in that place. Even the servants.
And then, without looking back, I picked up the car keys and
drove home.
Where I settled in to watch a couple of HBO shows, eat some
turkey breast on toast and finally drifted off to sleep.
Monday done.
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