Wednesday, 8 January 2014

Perfectly Good Sausage Rolls

Hello, Leroy here,
So, went out for mi' usual mosey round't local shops, doin' me shopping and such, you know, and weh’, everyone I talked to were complaining ‘bout bin men bin' on strike.

I say, it’s all the bleedin’ council’s fault. Always is in’t it ay. Last year, they wasted all’t money painting them streetlights fancy greys like ‘Elephant’s Breath’ or ‘Engraved Pocket’, or something along them lines. Dun’t sound a lot I know, but put into consideration that Fakemoor has more streetlights per square inch than anywhere else in’t county, and that they used that right minty Barrow & Fall paint, ay, must’ve come to a right packet. And’t daft bleeders din’t think to change the bulbs while they were at it. So it’s pitch black between Cos Grove and Dobson Passage now. Luckily, there’s only really t’wirly’s at the Nursing Home on that stretch. Most of them ‘ave probably got cataracts, so I guess it dun’t really bother them does it.

Anyweh’, it’s bleedin’ typical in’t it, first bin collection after Christmas and they decide to go on strike, all cos the council can’t afford to pay ‘em. Meanin’ the place stinks like rotting turkey meat, mini quiche and puppy. Which is probably, exactly what it is. Anyw'eh, I'm just thankful it in't Summer, cos it'd be really ripe then wunt it.

It’s not all bad mind. There’s plenty of tidbits for ol’ Leeeroy. In fact, this morning I ‘ad a quick rummage through Mr. & Mrs. Cornfoot’s sweaty pile. Weh’, they’d thrown out a right load of perfectly good sausage rolls, still in date, still in their packagin’, nowt wrong wi’ ‘em. Folk are odd to say the least. 

Found a dress in another neighbour’s bin too. Weh’, again, don’t know what’s wrong wi’ people, I really don’t. Could they not tek it back t’shop ay? Nice lacy number it is. Reckon you’d have to wear summit under it like. Mebbi' a bit revealing around the all over body area. Would look spot-on wi’ a nice shawl. I gev’ it to Emily, but I don’t think she liked it much.

That’s all from me anyweh', I’ll be in touch.


- Leroy Craddock

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