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Beach Huts At The Beach

A photo of Mr and Mrs Bishop at the beach however when this photo was taken they were busy in the shed, hmm.

 

Hi, handsome here, er, um, oops, nah, sorry folks just me Sandy. Anyhoo I’ve told the Bishop to go and get fu..

[Cut, cut, cut. Mike, the editor here. Look Mark, remember, we had a deal about the eff word and sunshine I did say a “fun” adventure please, everyone is dying to hear from Sandy and all you want to do is sit around all day, drink beer and eat pizza, for Gordon’s sake man, grow up!]

Yes well then to go an, to go and, oh, to go and get fun. Yes, that’s right, I told the Bishop to go and get fun, as you do. We all like fun I suppose, I mean I do, I think, not really sure yet but I guess the past tense of fun would therefore have to be funned. Taking this to an extreme extrapolation, I could get home from a hard day in space and kiss the beautiful Belinda, deeply, passionately and, if lucky, x-ratedly and say,

“I missed you darling…

!!!!STRICT WARNING: There is certain dictionary found on Earth that contains a rather scary definition of the word “missed”. It’s definition number 7 actually, page 1114, see it, middle of the page. See what I mean!

The Church of St Generic Brand wishes to advise that any viewer that may be offended by words appearing on any computer chip device are advised to look away now.

FAILED TO HIT

You must keep this a secret from kiddies until they are at least 45 years of age.!!!!

This stunning fact could lead to many a divorce or prison term. I missed you darling may then come with some sinister undertones, hmm, I digress which by the way is the only thing I am good at, just ask me.

“Anyhoo” I continue “I slayed a few dragons, broke a ruthless despot in two with my bare hands, you know darling, the usual sort of stuff.”

Hmm, such subtle understatement of my lofty achievements that my modesty may prevent me from telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me Gordon. Well unless a convenient piece of confabulation comes to mind.

“That’s good dear” perfuncts Belinda. “Was it fun my little sweet cheeks?”

“Well, to be honest honey, I’m far, ah, afrh, ah, funned, that’s it, I’m funned sweetie.”

See, that’s how simple it can be. Well, I guess that’s me.

Now, I have to get the Bishop to have some fun. Do you know why? Because the Bishop thinks that if all of us patrons at the Arms, just stop for five minutes and read something really absurd and laugh, it will all do us the world of good. Pity the Bishop smokes too much of that green stinky stuff if his pipe but hey who gives a fun.

I’ll prove my case. Here are some cherry picked quotes that I have received over the years that show, beyond doubt, that anecdotal evidence is simply far superior to the scientific method. Earth flat right? Sure is.

“Mate, I was reading your story and laughed so hysterically hard that the lager I was consuming came out my nose and on to the keyboard, snot and all. Worse thing was it was a race between me and the cat to see who could lick up the most…” DCI Rouge, Inner Cyberia Pleece Force.

“Mate, I was reading the comment above and laughed so hysterically hard that the lager I was consuming came out my nose and on to the keyboard, snot and all. Worse thing was it was a race between me and the cat to see who could lick up the most…” DCI Rouge, er um Foodge, Inner Cyberian.

“Mate, I was reading the comment above and laughed so hysterically hard that the lager I was consuming came out my nose and on to the keyboard, snot and all. Worse thing was it was a race between me and the cat to see who could lick up the most…” DCI Rouge, er um Foodge, Inner Cyberian, um, D.G O’Hoo, Buggered if I Know.

See what I mean and that was only three.

[Cut, stop, no one move. Mike here again. Mark there were only three comments and all came from Foodge et.al. and lets face it, that mob just lack continuity.]

I guess we could send the Bish on an island holiday but knowing him he will fall over after one too many pipes and then whinge about the bill. To make matters worse, Gordon pays the bill anyway as all the money in the galaxy belongs to him, hmm.

Hey I have an idea. Teach kids a musical instrument. I do. Kids come to me and say,

“Hey Sandy, will I ever play the blues like you?” they inquire.

“Sure son” I say, the eternal optimist in me always persists “Just spend 20 years in your bedroom practicing, have a shit life, get divorced, bashed senseless and shot at. Then buy a high quality bottle of tequila and some pot and you’ll play the blues.”

Okay then, so Bish go and have some fun.

Authors Notes.

[1] This story does not reflect the views of the author. It is simply humour. And anyway I prefer Johnny Walker Blue label.

[2] Gordon is the creator of the universe. He is a scientist from another dimension and is studying the Milky Way for his PhD in Astrophysicists. Gordon, is Gordon O’Donnell and hence GOD.

[3] Belinda is Sandy’s wife.

[4] The Bishop heads the parish of St Generic Brand in the see of Inner Cyberia. It was established by Gordon to tolerate all religions for all people as long as you don’t proselytize.