I Guess I'm a Lucky Guy.



I have a lovely house with a garden, which catches the sun nicely at this
time of the evening up to a point where people even take photographs (do we
still call them photographs?) and encourage the hound to play with his toys
amongst the rhubarb.

Speaking of the hound, I am blessed with a pooch that is well above average
intelligence and absolutely beautiful in terms of looks and personality. He
is an all black, long haired Shepherd with a strong stance and notablebly
strong hind quarters. As far as his personality goes, he ripped a kids face
off a few years ago but the little oik was face-painted in the Chelsea
colours and the judge (a friend of mine from the Golf Club, actually) saw
the obvious provocation and gave me a caution.

I am blessed with a wife who is the absolute earthly personification of
beauty, just as she was 35 years ago. I have a daughter who is bright in
every possible interpretation of the word.

I have an Aston Martin parked in my drive, although I do wish the cunt would
move it.

I guess I'm a lucky guy. If only it wasn't for the mortgage that I can't
afford and that the bank is desperately hoping will help ease the burden of
global meltdown when the Chinese and the Indians do finally face off and the
rest of us look forward to yet another coalition.

I'm sure the kid's on crack or Peace or Extacy or whatever they call it
these days. The only reason she wasn't in the Riots is because she was being
pumped out in a private ward in Manchester at the time. And they say that
those Gallagher boys are role models.

The whole bloody world is in a mess. There was a guy in the ward last night
who reckons that paedophiles are natures way of controlling the human
population crisis. Problem is I actually found myself arguing with him and
losing.

Do you know the worst thing about Alzheimer's?



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