This morning, at just gone seven, my door was hammered down and a man in a suit that looked like it was woven from dried horse shit handed me this:
(Click on image to enlarge )
It seems like John was doing a little more than keeping dog when I dumped the Morrison's leftovers into the canal. The bastard was recording my every action. Now I've been hit with a whopping great fine and may even be evicted. I am just astonished that anyone would do such a mean, callous, low down dirty trick.
I love, 'suit that looked like it was woven from dried horse shit' it describes every council emplyee I've ever come in contact with - unwillingly.
ReplyDeleteCan't wait to hear what happens next.
Helena xx
With the English it always comes down to The Council, the preferred weapon of the terminally useless.
ReplyDeleteI remember in another life a twisted fiend attempting to have me evicted on some flimsy premise.
She used bowler-hatted virgins that Kafka would have stood on as proxies.
Needless to say, Lady Battenberg-Marmalade was soon hounded out of the neighbourhood.
And the bowler-hatted virgins never ever bothered me again...