cookedbread

I met Gatso in my local supermarket in the queue for free samples of sausages. He reckoned that essence precedes existance, but I was having none of it. “Look”, I said, “Biting a lemon doen’t make it bitter, neither does not biting it.”
Then I accidentally spilt some tomato sauce on his dress.
Ballistic he went. Kicking over washing powder, shoving cereal and fish fingers all over the place.
Nice chap all the same.

Yeah, I met Sid in a queue for the portaloo at the Grand National in Aintree, He wasn’t looking so smiley so I told him that I had gotten a really good tip from a fella who put the odds up on a chalk board in the bookies back home. “Double Honour” I told him, “Put the farm on him”.Well, the horse fell at the second fence, I saw sid ripping up his docket over by the burger bar. Livid he was. Must have lost a packet.

Just wanted to clarify; it says under Mr O’Scarriots details that he betrayed Jesus, well, I met him him in the queue for pad thai noodles at the ‘Electric Picnic’ in Ireland this year and he said that he didn’t betray Jesus, that he was an instrument in the Big Mans’ destiny in opening the door to his dads’house for everyone and the Big Man was grand about the whole thing, and in fact he even felt a bit cat about the bad press that Mr. O’S was always getting seeing as how that doorman, Peter, was all like “Jesus? Tall fella was he? Bearded? Tell me now, was he wearing a hat?” and what does he get only a cusdie job upstairs. So, yeh, nice chap. Noodles were excellent too. I got the last lot. Judas had salad.