Poor old Ma Beasty had done her shoulder in and was shuffling about like quasi modo (not that we laughed or took the piss......much mwa ha ha ha ) . It was as Pa Beasty took this picture , I noticed his shorts . They look rather nice , I said suspiciously , as Pa Beasty usually dresses like worzel gummidge
oh these are just some old rag I found in the wardrobe , he preened
But WHOSE wardrobe sniggered Ma Beasty sotto voice
I couldn't believe it the old devil had pinched my favourite Bench shorts
Pa Beasty posing in his Pilfered shorts.
Anyway short of debagging the swine , I had to leave it and get on with the rest of the day .We had a very nice lunch on the quay , wanderered about (a lurching shuffle in Ma Beasties case ***snigger***) and eventually retired to Dorchester to the Cafe C garden for a dorset cream tea hosted by an uncharacteristically jovial Mr C .
Replete with their free tea I then had to endure the fossils waxing lyrically all the way home about how Mr C was always their favourite son , so polite , funny and industrious..blah blah blah... Not like the rest of us dull , work shy deadweights .
I tried in vain to point out he wasn't actually their son , which was summarily dismissed as a mere accident of biology , genetics and location.....bloody cheek!
In more Cafe C news . Saturday was going so well until the oven door exploded.
I off course got the blame.:-(
So a typical week . Robbed . Disowned.Wrongfully accused ....oh and I cracked a rib staggering about with the Cafe C Stage .
But am I bitter
**** kicks next doors cat***