Sorry about all that,that oul' pisswater English beer mustn't agree with me.Now where was I?Ah yes I was telling you about the naked bishop at the card school,no,I can't tell you that,were
we discussing the trainer's wife and the three jockeys re-enacting the melee in Fionavon's
Grand National,up in the bridal suite ?No,You'll have to wait for the book to be published after
my death for that one,no,it's coming back to me now,I was telling you about Matt lying in a pool
Only thing is,while there may have been blood in it,there was lots more besides.As I gaped at
him in horror,he let out an unmerciful,scuttery, wet fart and turned over,face down,into his own
vomit.Apparently,some time after I left him,Matt,the dirty bollocks, and his new Russian friends had switched to
Bloody Marys,and proceeded to drink the hotel's entire stock of both Vodka and tomato juice. I
couldn't wake him so I grabbed the bottom sheet and tossed the smelly fucker onto the floor and
heaved him onto his side.I didn't envy Steve coming home to that,with the stench of feet,farts,
Vodka and vomit,it could have been the last circle of Dante's Inferno.
Getting back to my own predicament,the duty manager was unable to open my room door
either,as there appeared to be,indeed was, a wardrobe pressed against it. With brute force and
ignorance we managed to open it enough for him to squeeze in,but only for a split second 'cause
he came out past me as if there was no door at all.I must have woken half the residents with the
laughing as there was the purse,bollock naked,head on the floor,hairy arse in the air,snoring his
head off enough to waken the dead.It turned out the miserable bollix,not trusting the hotel safe,
and unable to sleep for fear of being robbed by the English heathen,did fall asleep while trying
to hide his money under the carpet.
*Whodies ;Derogatory term for sales reps.,their only conversation on meeting with each other
being...........who d'y you do for?
Footnote ;Matt had to pay an excess laundry bill of 60 pounds,Sterling.