Morning after the night before
After a heavy night of alcoholic merriment, 'Biker girl' , a couple of her friends and I, go back to my house, for a quick beverage before bedtime. ( there were no 'takers' for the Bovril )
Biker girls' friends, lets call them Dia' and Jo' to mask their real identities, are from a nearby village. They have just started dating, but under controversial circumstances.
In order to avoid gossip, they ask to sleep over.
I offer them the downstairs bedroom, which is fed from the lounge, home of Bobby and Chicken.
During the night, the poodles, hearing movement from behind the door, become agitated and yappy.
In order to quell the ruckus, Jo' decides to let them in. The poodles quieten down and play amongst themselves.
It's hard to imagine, unless you've ever seen the like, how much mayhem can be created by the combination of two poodles, and two, slightly damaged, feather pillows.
Dia' and Jo' woke up in a kind of 'snow drift' of feathers. It was surreal.
The down, once unleashed, occupies about 10 times the original volume.
In order to avoid detection, Dia' leaves first. Jo' walks back to the lounge, having kissed Dia' good bye, smiling.
"Once Dia' walked out into the sunshine you could see he was covered in fluff."
Good job I didn't leave an open tin of syrup out.
Biker girls' friends, lets call them Dia' and Jo' to mask their real identities, are from a nearby village. They have just started dating, but under controversial circumstances.
In order to avoid gossip, they ask to sleep over.
I offer them the downstairs bedroom, which is fed from the lounge, home of Bobby and Chicken.
During the night, the poodles, hearing movement from behind the door, become agitated and yappy.
In order to quell the ruckus, Jo' decides to let them in. The poodles quieten down and play amongst themselves.
It's hard to imagine, unless you've ever seen the like, how much mayhem can be created by the combination of two poodles, and two, slightly damaged, feather pillows.
Dia' and Jo' woke up in a kind of 'snow drift' of feathers. It was surreal.
The down, once unleashed, occupies about 10 times the original volume.
In order to avoid detection, Dia' leaves first. Jo' walks back to the lounge, having kissed Dia' good bye, smiling.
"Once Dia' walked out into the sunshine you could see he was covered in fluff."
Good job I didn't leave an open tin of syrup out.
posted by Tickersoid at 2:16 PM
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4 Comments:
Oh no, not good job, next time, make mental note to keep syrup handy. Oh the mirth...
Controversial circumstances being....
lady muck- The stories in my blog are, and will coninue to be, true, although the comments, are largely, complete bollocks.
Names and some places have been changed to protect the guilty.
I'm not going to 'tar and feather my downstairs just for comedic effect.
I still haven't cleared out all the feathers and it happend 8 days ago.
(Caveat- Unless, of course, the post is obviously tosh such as 'Blogging II')
fuckkit- At the precise moment, I touch typed those words from my keyboard, I thought of you.
I knew you'd ask.
It would compromise my integrity, to reveal confidences, put to me in good faith.
So here goes.
Jo', having very recently split from her husband, is dating Dia' suspiciously soon. In a small villiage, where most people are in some way related to each other, This can cause problems.
Oops! it just slipped out.
Since writing the comments I made above, I have written posts which are total popycock.
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