I should of run
Back when I was a wee punk I started seeing this lad who had gone to the same school as me (I was still going to school but he was working) I was invited around to his parents house for Friday night fish & chips, I bravely went along in my finest punkery and was greeted at the door by the biggest smelliest woman you could ever believe and ushered into the breakfast room (sounds a bit posh but believe me it was not) and given a seat between smelly woman and mental case younger sister and the fish & chips were plonked down in the middle of the table (no plates or cutlery mind) and everyone dove in I was delicately trying to eat this greasy mess when up popped the head of the mankiest old ginger cat from the other end of the table and he proceeded to help himself to a piece of fish kind of hard to ignore but I did my best whilst listening to smelly woman prattle on how her day had been and how sad it was that the budgie had died that morning I was uttering my 'oh how sad' comments she said look see here he is and lifted up the fish & chips paper and pulled out this dead budgie wrapped in a hanky cue complete loss of appetite so I just sat there trying to smile through the rest of the experience. At the end she said that she had some choc cake for afters and asked me to come and help her in the kitchen so I did because my parents had brought me up to be polite, where she pulled out a bread board covered in ants (dead & alive ones) and gave it a cursory wipe and then slapped the cake on top of it and started to cut it into pieces by this time I had even less of an appetite and made mumbled excuses and called my Dad to come and rescue me.
(DWF, Fri 20 May 2005, 5:14, Reply)