We Value Your Custom. Now Shhhhhh!


“Your custom we value.”

They say down the phone.

As they read laminated prompt cards,

Provided to each clone.

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Blackmail, Treachery And Cornish Pasties.

Be careful of a man who splashes.

Work days always begin in a very similar way in my modest little life.  A cup of coffee, check the emails, check Facebook and then check Twitter.  I am not certain when Facebook and, more latterly Twitter, became part of my morning routine, but there we have it.  Then it is a jump into the car and off to work with the inevitable situation where I am concerned that I have a flat tyre or two.  I don’t know why I always think that I have a flat tyre and I have no reason to think that I have a flat tyre.   But I drive down the potholed roads in Northern Ireland convinced that I am listing to once side and increase my swearing vocabulary by sticking two sweary style words together as I become more amazed by the high quality of moron that has somehow been given a driving licence over here.  I sometimes indulge in a little tmesis, which I learned sometime ago to be the insertion of one word within another.  We have all done it. Of that I am abso-f@(&ing-lutely certain.

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