Bob Lewington here;
I was round Mum’s yesterday afternoon to put some new batteries in her TV remote control. I’m a dab hand at DIY you see.
After trying for twenty minutes to get the cover off, I told Mum that this was a bigger job than appeared. I needed to ponder my strategy whilst completing a movement.
On the pot I read my horoscope in the paper. With Venus in the ascendant and Neptune on a bender (or some such, I’ve never really understood Gastrology to be honest) I should; “Be careful today of undertaking complex tasks involving machinery and instead prepare for a romantic encounter.”
That knocked the battery change on the head.
After I’d eaten the bacon rolls Mum had made, I nipped home to watch the film my mate Pete the Slip had given me down The Reclusive Monkey on Saturday.
Shirley had gone to the Bingo so I had a couple of hours to kill before she got home to cook my tea.
Lovemeat Sandwich had some very good camera work. And the script was very challenging.
Shirley caught me in a compromising position on the leather cornerpiece. She didn’t believe me when I told her that I was just airing my rash.
I had to cook my own fish fingers for tea.
Horoscopes. Spooky. End of.