I get up in the morning at 9am, this is difficult for me, because I do not wake up until 10am. Once awake, I throw my legs out of the bed, and call the dog to bring them back.
The false limbs fitted, I go down stairs, usually, head first, I must get that carpet fixed. In the kitchen, I have a vast selection of cereal. If only I could find them.
Breakfast over, always over me, I have the shakes. I put my coat on and take the dog for a drag. I named him cigarette.
He is my guard dog, I tell him to attack, and he has one.
At 11am, I catch the bus, the lasso lessons were invaluable.
In the office, it is all go! go ! go! I should not have had the biriani the night before. I work as a clerk at the sewer works, its a shit job, and I'm usually the one covered in it. Work over, and I have been, I make my way to the pub. It is here, that I find solace.
She may be a six foot transvestite, but she is a dear friend and drinking companion. I spend the evening downing neat whisky, I'm a tidy drinker. It was the doctor that put me on a whisky diet, I've lost three days this week.
Solace takes me home and puts me to bed. I think my sore arse is due to the amount of chilli in the kebab I ate. But then, I didn't have a kebab last night!
I get at 9am...........................................