Brett Favre - My Fake Diary
Wednesday, 18 January 2012
Friday 30th September - Fifth Friday in September - Alfie Moon
Woke at half past nine bouncing down the stairs. I discovered (upon reading the manual...and who on earth reads a manual...if I'd read the manuals do you really think I'd have thrown all those interceptions?) that if left undrained for too long the Stay-Dri Bedsheet System (ker-ching!) can create an aquaplaning effect that may result in "sleeptime relocation."
Blow me! As the greatest quarterback of all time said to the lowly gameday hostess but without success. When the carpet cleaner arrived it was only my old back-up tight end from Hancock North Central, Bozy Nussbaum. I immediately dragged him out into the field and sent him deep. He proved considerably slower and clumsier than in 1987/8 and couldn't catch a ball even when I dolly-dropped it over his shoulder or pinged it into his ass. I eventually waved him in. What's happened to you, man?" I said. "I have a replacement hip, I need inhalers and I have to pull this dialysis machine around," he replied, gasping for breath. What a wimp. I play at the same level as I've always done in the toughest league on earth and I'm nearly seven weeks older than him!
After the Nussbaum Incident I became very melancholy and went to sit under a tree in the orchard with my battered straw hat on. I smoked a briar pipe, stroked my faithful companion Conchita, and pondered the passage of time.
The skies darkened and a huge cloud front rolled in. I headed back to the house and rang the Tornado Alarm. As we all ran towards the steps to the bunker Deanna was whisked up into the sky, twirled round and round and dropped through the roof of the barn. I saw the kids, Conchita and all the essential staff to safety then fought my way through the monstrous circulatory currents to find Deanna. She was lying in a wheelbarrow, moaning softly. Are you okay, I screamed into her face. She opened her eyes and tried to speak. I pushed my ear against her lips. Get out of the freaking house, she whispered hoarsely. You're a freaking jinx. Charming!
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