After a couple of over priced foreign beers from Corney and Barrow after work (£3.40 for 330ml) I walked to Cannon Street Station in the searing heat.
I got on what I thought was a train but in fact in turned out to be a sauna. Luckily it knew the way to my stop and I was deposited at the lively station of Deptford.
Market day. Or at least the aftermath of market day. Jeez. People can be so messy. Good job we have dustmen and road sweepers every day. It was clean in no time.
Anywho, when I got back I had a lovely meal ready for me as I opened the door. Plus one of the girls offered to iron one of my work shirts.
That's when my spider-sense kicked in.
What could these women be up too? What do they want with me? As far as I was concerned, there were no jars that needed loosening, no spiders that needed hounding. Had they spiked my food? Put itching powder in my shirt?
None of the above. I suspect they were just being nice.
My people call me the dude. I share my teachings in the passages below... (along with many typos, grammatical errors and lazy writing)
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