Sunday, October 05, 2008

Who wants to be ..........................

For my friends, Doc. & Kim.....






Some of you may have been wondering where I was and
what I was up to for the last while and the simple answer is

that it's none of your damn business, sorry, only joking.

Funnily enough , the truth is much stranger than any

fiction my warped mind could conjure so brace yourselves,

pour a stiff one and sit back while I relate all that I can

remember about the beginning of an eventful time. If there

is any lie in what follows, it wasn't me who put it there and

all characters are non-ficticious.

Malicia and me had been going through one of our rough

passages, not the marriage, I hasten to add, that was as

bad as ever and nothing changes there but financially

things were getting a bit ropey with some of the tenants

falling behind with their rent. Then there had been a

series of bad decisions made on the oul' equine front but

worst of all my Organic Local Farmer's Market stall had

been closed down by the Corporation because of a raft

of spurious suggestions, allegations and petitions that my

goods were not organic or local and furthermore had the

flimsiest aquaintance with farmers of any description. I

might be able to grow figs, kiwi fruit and blood oranges for all

they knew, the fuckers, organic ones at that.

Things had become so bad that Malicia had to forego her daily

chin, moustache and leg waxing sessions and go twice weekly

instead. If the situation got any worse I would have to send

some of my girlfriends back Pole-dancing while any further

deterioration in my finances would necessitate taking some

of the Gardai off my payroll, don't talk to me about appalling

vistas.

So there I was one morning about to start a busy day at the

office, i.e. log into Betfair, when I decided to check my

e-mails and holy fuck, hadn't all my prayers been answered.

There it was, in black and white, hadn't I only gone and won

$ 1.5 million on the Nigerian Lottery. Now this was a complete

surprise to me as I had completely forgotten to play it that

week so I could only assume that they were working a back-

week or something like that. Now I know what you're thinking

and I had heard some vague rumours as well about possible

scams emanating from Nigeria but this notification was from

a bank manager so God bless their little black arses was all I

could think, my just reward for all the pennies I gave to

" the Black Babies " as a chiseller, fair play to me. All I had to

do was to send some of my bank details to a Mr. Mbosi at the

Royal Nigerian Bank in Lagos. Fuckin' sure, says I, and I did.

I suppose you know whats coming next, well you don't,

smart-arse. I went on an unholy bender for 10 days and

only finished when I came to in Holyhead in a taxi on the

way to a Registry Office where a "Quare One " had

persuaded me to marry her, but thats another story and I'll

tell you about it some other time.

So I sneaked home, waited for Malicia to leave and went in

to check the mail. Sweet Gee, do you know what was left in

my bank account, of course you do, there was sweet fuck-all.

The sneaky fuckers had only gone and sucked out my com-

plete overdraft of 167,453 euros and 49 cents, which the

bank had been trying to retrieve for ages, and left me with

no hold over the bank manager, and worse still, no winnings.

Even to my addled brain those exchange rates didn't calculate

correctly and $1.5 mill. did not equal E 167,453.49 so I

reckoned someone owed me about 950.000 euros, fuck it,

call it a million and I'll say nothing. Now, who to collect it

from ?, and where could I find this little bollix, Mbosi.

You won't believe this, but just then the 'phone rang and

who do you think it was, yes, some fucker selling kitchens,

and while I was giving him his pedigree the 'phone bleeped

and this time who was it only the bould Mbosi himself,

bold as brass.

" I think we should meet, Mr Barney. " says he.


" Theres some explaining to be done all right." says I.


Which is how I found myself in the top floor suite of

the Sheraton Lagos Hotel and Towers.



5 comments:

Dr Maroon said...

You fucking twat.
Don't you know anything?
Betfair is old news, it's Paddypower or nothing.

Christ, it's good to see you.

Kim Ayres said...

Na, you're ok - I wasn't wondering.

By the way, did you know Doc lost Glark? Not that I'm a grass or anything.

Dr Maroon said...

I did as well. It's the truth.
He heard the call and there was no stopping him.
He was a determined little cunt but I loved him so much.

the anti-barney said...

Well,well, well,here we are again, we've all passed a lot of water under the bridge since I did this but its great to see you both again.
Doc., Betfair's you're only man, bet AND lay, yer few bob lasts a little longer although the end result is just as inevitable.I heard that Knackers stole Glark from your estate, could this be true?
Kim, you bollix, even I was wondering where I was,still not too sure.

ric said...

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