First Of The Month

All Saints Day, eh?
Hallowe’en passed without much of a hitch. Hannah went off to a party dressed, let's not mince words, like a slut. She still isn’t home yet.
We didn’t get any trick-or-treaters. I think the lack of a lit pumpkin outside, and the sign saying ‘Knock On My Door and I’ll Rip Your F**king Fingers Off’ may have helped.
Jim the Trucker from three doors down was seen handing home-made biscuits over gleefully. It’s a bit of a shock because anytime you see him its ‘bloody kids’ this and ‘bring back the cane’ that, and suddenly here he is being a local Willy Wonka for the youngsters.
I bumped into him at the shop today and asked him if it was true.
‘Aye, lad aye,’ he said from behind a roll-up, “Thought I’d join in this year. Could be my last, after all.’ (He’s a hypochondriac fatalist, in case I hadn’t mentioned it.)
What was in the recipe, I asked him?
‘Secret formula of my mothers’ he said, ‘with a couple of extra special ingredients of my own.’
I knew I’d regret my next question, but went ahead and asked it anyway.
‘What ingredients might they be, Jim?’ I asked.
“Laxatives and Rohypnol, lad” he laughed, “Laxatives and Rohypnol.”
The shop had sold out of toilet rolls and ProPlus.
Didn’t bother me. I’d only gone in for some sugar and a paper.

Have a good November

RC 1-11-08
2010 GMT