An Appalling Lack Of Patriotism
Track of the day Come On England - The Hamptons.
He found himself one night in a distant bar that was possessed of a big screen and was full of shaven headed men strangely clad in white shirts with three lions couchant upon the heart.
The shirts were short of sleeve and the flesh that did burst forth therefrom was mightily tattooed.
Then did a great silence fall upon the earth because the game was mightily boring and without skill or excitement.
But the faithful believed and it came to pass that they were able to celebrate victory with joyous cheering and loud hand clapping, so much so that it woke him from his slumbers and scared the shite out of his unworthy body.
Twice more was he roused from his slumbers by the loud and reverential clapping of hands and once was he terrified by the loud groans of tormented souls as the evil enemies of the men in white shirts threatened their defences.
A whistle blew, there were further bursts of reverential applause as glorious white shirted ones appeared on the screen and then did the bar suddenly and most mysteriously empty and become as quiet and as still as a morgue on a staff night off.
Milt pondered awhile and then muttered, "Stuff this for a game of soldiers," and made his way home, lamenting as he did so, his appalling lack of patriotism.
He found himself one night in a distant bar that was possessed of a big screen and was full of shaven headed men strangely clad in white shirts with three lions couchant upon the heart.The shirts were short of sleeve and the flesh that did burst forth therefrom was mightily tattooed.
Then did a great silence fall upon the earth because the game was mightily boring and without skill or excitement.
But the faithful believed and it came to pass that they were able to celebrate victory with joyous cheering and loud hand clapping, so much so that it woke him from his slumbers and scared the shite out of his unworthy body.
Twice more was he roused from his slumbers by the loud and reverential clapping of hands and once was he terrified by the loud groans of tormented souls as the evil enemies of the men in white shirts threatened their defences.
A whistle blew, there were further bursts of reverential applause as glorious white shirted ones appeared on the screen and then did the bar suddenly and most mysteriously empty and become as quiet and as still as a morgue on a staff night off.
Milt pondered awhile and then muttered, "Stuff this for a game of soldiers," and made his way home, lamenting as he did so, his appalling lack of patriotism.
Posted by Milt at 11:23:00 am
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