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Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Ding Dong Dementia

"Helloo," say I, from the gate bell receiver.

No reply.

As I have other things to attend to, I begin cleaning the furthest bedroom.

Ding Dong. Same scenario.

So I march into the garden, and discover six little bored buggers, fingers poised.

"Do that again," I bellow, "And, I will beat you with my broomstick."

Twelve eyes, shot out on stalks.

"It wasn't me, ma'am. It was my brother. I've only just got here," grins the leader of the pack.

Then, a big belly protrudes from around the corner.

Octomom : "You can't shout at my kids. It's against the law."

Silence prevails.

Ding Dong x 3.

Out I go again.

There stands a local bag lady. Sipping from a half jack.

"I have rung this bell three times."

"Yes, I heard."

"I need you to put me up. My husband has been beating me up. My car is broken. I will pay you when I get a job. Why do all the places say they are fully booked? Are you going to leave me out here on the street?"

Then the cops arrive and bundle her into the back of the van. I am cursed to hell.

I unplug the bell.

Later, tapping on the gate.

I plug in the bell. "Hello!"

"Your bell does not work. I am looking for Job."

"Well, let me know when you find him."

And, the bell does work, believe me.

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