Friday, August 24, 2007

POOH IN PUBLIC PLACES AND PRIVATE PARTS

It is 8.45pm and I am watching TV. 10 minutes ago Rachel and her friend left to take the dog for a walk down to the beach. My phone rings. I see on the display that it's Rachel calling me.

"Hi Mum, the gate to the beach is locked. Will you bring me down the keys?"

"Can you not walk back here and get it love. I'm just after sitting down in front of the TV ?"

"I CANT. THE DOG HAS DIARRHOEA AND HAS LEFT A TRAIL OF RUNNY POOH BEHIND HER ALL THE WAY DOWN HERE. SO MUCH FOR THE DOGGY BAGS YOU GAVE ME, WHAT I NEED IS A WATER HOSE. THIS IS SOOOOOOO EMBARRASSING. CAN YOU PLEASE JUST BRING ME THE KEYS?"

Point taken.

I grab the beach gate keys and hop onto her bicycle. It is getting dark and I cycle down the road towards her following the trail of brown sludge I come across along the way.

I hand her over the keys and cycle back to the van.

When I enter the TV is still on. I sit down and see that an Insurance Company is running an ad. The name of the Insurance Company is called Hiscox. Wait a minute. I blink to make sure that what I am reading on the screen is the same as what my ears are hearing.

Hiscox. HIS COCKS.

Who the hell wants to be insured by a company that calls itself after the male genitalia for Christsakes. To me, it's a bit like calling a company 'Herkunts'

2 comments:

aquaasho said...

Oh the language! It's like Twenty's place around here......

jothemama said...

LOL :) :)

A friend's sister went to the German school with a boy named Alex Bollox...