* bring bring*
“Hello?”
“Hello Jimmy, Twenty here. Were you looking for me?”
“Nah, why would I be looking for you, you cunt? I know where to find you.”
“Right you are.”
*click*
*bring bring*
“Hello?”
“Howya, Dirty Dave. It’s Twenty. I heard you were looking for me.”
“No. Someone’s spouting shite, Twenty.”
“Fair enough so. Must be Pete.”
*click*
*bring bring*
“Look, just fuck off and stop calling.”
“Pete?”
“Oh, Twenty. Sorry. That was NTL technical support. They just won’t stop calling me. What’s up?”
“Are you looking for me?”
“I am not. Why?”
“I just heard someone was looking for me. Figured it’d be one of you guys.”
“Not me.”
“Grand so.”
*click*
I wonder who it is that’s looking for me. How strange that they don’t seem to be able to use email. Anyway, whoever you are, I’ll be in Ron’s from about 8. See you there.
Strange Man! It seems your not going to the pub for the rugby!
Oh it’s on….
what, for the love of Christ, is with all this clean, stark modernity look? It’s like when the big chains come in and buy your favourite pub and ‘do it up’. Selling England by the pound, is what it is. Not that I give a damn, being Scotch and all, but Christ.
Just come from the swearing lady’s blog and upon checking her Irish Blog award link, have discovered you won.
Well done and all that, but it was hardly a surprise, bet you haven’t sat down since. No offence, but I wanted the swearing lady to win but what you gonna do?
Did you go to it?
You’re maybe wondering why I didn’t want the superb Fatmammycat to win it, but obviously she has already trancended Ireland. She bestrides the world. Irish Blog Awards are of no consequence in the orbits she follows.
Why wouldn’t I have sat down?
Did I go to it? Read the blogs, Macaroon.
Because your bottom might be sore!
I’ll get me coat.
You are such a massive benny. You make me wish Scotland was banned from the internet.
It’s not?
Sadly not. Hence Maroon’s continued semi-sober vomits all over it.
Aha! Yes. Well then. You may say so Mr Twenty Major, but remember this, even the dung beetle has his place in Eden.
Anyway, you love it, you know you do.
All the greats had someone sniping at them in the woodpile, leaping out the bushes to shout “Remember Carthage!” and so on. It gives the place a touch of class.
Ask anyone.
Entertaining as ever, Mr. Major.
How’s life in the bins, Fred?
Hello 20, I tried to do a search in the google.com/reader for the new 20 site, but it only is spitting up the old one. How difficult can it be for them? I’m sure you won’t lose any sleep over it, or start thinking it was a conspiracy or anything of that class of bollocks, but there you have it anyway.
Just add the feed directly, Tim.
http://feeds.feedburner.com/twentymajor
…and as angry as ever too, Major. No offense taken as always.