Warmonger
Woke up one morning after hitting it rather heavily the night before until like 5am. Still, was woken about 11ish with my house mate demanding we go to the shop for bread.
Not in best moods. It's cold, I'm hungover & still on a come down. I'm slightly ill. Basically, I don't want to be bothered, so I dress in a trenchcoat, collar up, and my trilby tilted so no one can see my face.
Coming up to the shops, there's this stall with guys with clipboards standing in front of it. One of them says, direted towards me & my mate, "Hey there guys, help bring our troops back home?"
First smart arse thing I can think of saying to get this guy out of my face? "No thanks, I like war."
Cue me then quickening my pace once it clicks in my brain what I've just said. Don't look back, but apparently my housemate had just stopped mid pace, gobsmacked, only to then peg it to catch back up with me, also not looking back.
_{We walked a different way home. Housemate asked me "What if his father was a soldier?" just to rub it in. What if? Then I hope he knows his son is a failure.}
( Insane Maniac musically inclined (about 45°), Sun 27 Nov 2005, 23:34, Reply)