After all these years even fogging his mind with cannabis just to blot out the despair cannot raise his spirits
and so his working day gets ever shorter - that 'swift pint after work' turns from one, to two...to three....then the chasers get involved. 'Just one more' he thinks to himself, 'then a cheeky falafel wrap on me way home' - before you know it, it's three months since little Sunflower and Youssou have seen their father, and yet somehow his dimwitted wife STILL hasn't noticed there's something rotten in the state of Cov.

She fails to see that when her Noddy Holder-ish voice bellows out yet another cretinous observation, the little flinch, the gritting of Tango's teeth and how his eyes longingly flicker over to the kitchen knife so near to hand...and yet so far away....

He can dream, though. She can't take his dreams. One day The Yurtsmiths will get that Mumford and Sons support slot, then they'll see.

Then they'll see.

*mournful Alan Bennett-esque violin incidental music*
( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Fri 7 Jun 2013, 17:25, 2 replies, latest was 12 years ago)

annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnddddddddddd Click
( hartley hare Just some prick who thinks it doesn't apply to him, Fri 7 Jun 2013, 18:38, Reply)

This is excellent work here

( tangledupinblue hairy badge with moving eyes, Fri 7 Jun 2013, 23:22, Reply)