Let me take you by the hand and lead you through the streets of London, I'll show you something to make you change your mind. Bags of poo. That's what I'll show you. Loads of them. All over Belgravia. You know what this means, don't you?
Dogs have got opposable thumbs? Nope. Initially I thought that it was semi-polite dog-bothering cretins that were too lazy to find any kind of formal, respectable receptacle. But that doesn't make sense. I mean, what kind of demi-human trollboy takes a plastic bag to clean up after a dog then leaves said bag festering on the side of the road? Surely no one.
Which means people in that end of London must have got so posh that they are refusing to have toilets in their houses. It's the only logical explanation. Word of advice, if you're in West London and you see a man in a top hat carrying a small M&S sandwich bag do not accept the offer of a sweetie.
______________
In other news, during karaoke the other night I got told that 'at points the noises coming out of your mouth were indistinguishable from real singing'. This is the highest singing praise I've ever received. Unless you count the guy who asked if I was a professional - which I don't because he was clearly an idiot.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment