Minestrone Monsters Soup Dragons
I fear, my stock serpentine friends, that you may have ''dropped a clanger''.
If you must know, my most natural inclination at the moment is to pop to Sainsbury’s in my dressing gown rather than get changed properly, and then shout loudly at anyone in front of me at the checkout who has been on their mobile phone all the way through the scanning and has waited until the second the cashier has rung up the total before deciding that that is the time to start scratching around looking for their purse or wallet and counting it out in bronze.
However, were I to do so, I fear that to heed your advice, could lead me to being suspected of absconding from the nearest care home and returned there in error, or arrested for a breach of the peace.
Liberty is a ‘Divine Thing’, The Soup Dragons, both throughout the entire ‘Mother Universe’ and, specifically, ‘The Whole Wide World’, and in order to preserve it, the words you should hear from your grandaddy (come on) are that you are free to do what you want within certain acceptable parameters which are admittedly not clearly defined within today’s society. Admittedly, this may restrict the hummability of the piece.
I must also politely decline your offer to hold you, love you, hold you, love you, as I am happily married. Don’t be afraid though to message me on facebook for a platonic pint some time. as long as you promise not to be ‘’Running Wild’’ around the mutually selected hostelry
Dear Mr. Philpott
Thank you for your thrilling insight into supermarket sweeping and the verbal abusing of customers at your local weekly shop. I must say it looks like it could be a love affair you look forward to - emptying your angst of not being able to get your ‘today’s specials’ and screaming if you wanted to go faster like on a suburban Waltzer spun by Mr.Blobby in a tracksuit.
‘Hummability' though sounds like some kind of Instagram associated website that sells bunting with built-in audio playing music for those dreamy days out with Mabel and Tarquin whilst eating your Sainsbury's ‘Taste The Difference' under an old oak tree and reminiscing on that Summer of 1990 when you raved to ''I’m Free'' in a tent in a secret location on the M25 watching the sun come up and loving everyone and everything.
Being ‘Divine’ and a ‘Thing’ is something you must strive hard for judging by reading your letter, and I can only applaud you on that raucous way of life - the only way of life to be I feel, although ‘Running Wild’ is really just pushing it one step too far and you need to be careful in your older years that nothing sadly is snapped or pulled in the wrong places.
I would like to point out that I no longer drink pints as gentrification has set in and I can only muster a gin these days, preferably made in a local distillery brewed in caskets pumped by the sound of the albums of the Beach Boys and read goodnight stories by Stephen Fry and then served with some pink peppercorns and cucumbers (only Sainsbury’s 'Taste The Difference' of course) to cleverly bring you back around to your weekly food shopping dilemmas
Hifi Sean (Dickson)