the tall tales of augustus blowhorn.

Woke up this morning with a touch of the screaming ab dabs.

Mother swears its all the yogurt im eating, but im not so sure. Stands to reason that the yog is having some sort of negative effect down there in the nethers but I don’t imagine its the abbies that are affected.

trust me when i tell you im really into this fitness lark at the moment. I smear excrement on my face and chase a couple of reading boys down the river bank until keeling over from lack of oxygen. its all jolly fun, just a shame about having only 15 minutes to get into work after.

i leave the excrement where it is in any case. to be perfectly truthful i learned that particular trick from benny boy. im not sure my colleagues like the smell but its a damn site better than me being late for phone duty.

horrace has started to give me trouble again (thats the ginger sloth who sits in the south stand at work). considering the ghastly state of his face, recently flared up from a nasty chicken pox infection, he’s getting up and around the office with a surprising amount of noise.

you’d have thought he wouldnt want people looking at his sticked out eary and top-knotted head but apparently the chap cares not an iota.

its 5pm now and the life i have down the beer cellar with ma is a far sight better than the nonsense i spill here. that being the case, ill give my propers and say, once more, adieu.


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