What is just the Thursday under pants that are no longer serviceable? Dare I ask what happens on Thursdays?
You know it is a bit of a mystery that, I never quite got the hang of Thursdays! The other days pants are not far behind Thursdays but with moor hole than see through pant parts in strategic locations began... Eric popping out!
After 16years of service they are retiring to the duster draw.
The new ones have cartoons, spongy bobby, truss formers a slogan on one proclaims they are my zombie hunting pants, the spangly red thong will be my Thursday replacement.
They have rompers for grown ups now, they have a obvious flaw in there design though! No trap door round the back. It proclaimed on the liable ideal for festivals! I would like to see some one battling to get out of one to "sit and think hard" at two am in a claustrophobic portapotty after living on festival grub and lots of Booz, there like the north face of a cold place and have biting insects riding the thermals of the potty. A emergency exit would solve this and you would not have to compleatlay disrobe if you want to show you bum on stage.
I almost got a new t shirt but bottled out in the line to pay it was £4, I sat there sweating hart racing blood pumping but could not do it. Having spent £14/10s on pants £3 13s 7d on refreshments as my offspring refused to get the flask and sandwiches* out in front of the pound land. £1 five tooth brushes £1 glue £1 replacement stick on tash.
The eldest is now going on about redecorating "gasp" an estimate of around £150 is muted, when the other two brought me around with a cold flannel and a whiff of a five pound note, I put my foot down they have £40 and the wood chip is stoping. So I have given her my debit card to pay for the stuff.
They did fantastically well looking at all the stuff they have brought in from there car, there must be a sale on, I can't get to look at it as it was all taken up in to the small bed room, I can't get up there. I am a bit worried I don't handle change well it gets me all of balance.
New pants, a lick of magnolia and they gave me kippers for tea, Instead of my Wednesday marmalade, marmite and pickled fish on rye bred. The walls of my world are crashing down, could this be the beginning of the end of the begging?
*potted dog, dripping and egg wrapped in greats proof and news paper.