Elijah was every ones favorite Son, he may well have worn N.H.S jam jar bottom bins and had more zits than a glass blowers ass, but the long and short of it was that all loved him. Hang on, I can feel a home made deep fill mince pie coming on, and a brew of course. Baked them Yesterday. It’s no good, must get one, even if it does mean resisting a quick glimpse of Uranus.
Operation DFMP (dying for a mince pie) complete, that’s 3 more that won’t see December, over worked the pastry a tad, have to try and get it a bit shorter next time. Right, back to Elijah.
Elijah’s existence was governed by the almighty powers of a B&Q dimmer switch, turn clock wise for full illumination and Pansy smelling, turn anti clock wise to be transported into a shadowy world of primeval debauchery. yes, long matted hair, rotten teeth and a bell end that smells like a Dunkirk cheese shop.
Elijah was in the kitchen soaking rose petals and listening to classic FM when he was distracted by a knock on the door, it was Mrs Snapperorgan delivering the latest edition of All thing bright and beautiful.
Ahhhhhh, Mrs Snapperorgan, what a pleasant surprise, do come in. Won’t be long, just a few more petals, I’am infusing this fresh mineral water with these wose petals for my deluxe mince pies, should sell well at the Chwistmas fete.
Good show Elijah, about time that Mrs Primbuttocks had some serious competition. I say, it’s a bit bright in here, mind if I dim the light a little, plays havoc with my peepers.
Without waiting for a reply Mrs Snapperorgan foolishly dimmed the light.
Well done bitch, grimaced Elijah as he ripped the last petal from the wose. Prepare for a good scuttling.
Bis Gleich.
Storkwrite 