Saturday, 2 November 2013
This morning, while walking the dog, I met a man who told me his son had bought a puppy for his young daughter, on the provision that she stopped sucking her thumb. This flummoxed me for a while, so I asked him if she were to suck the dog instead. He either mis-heard me or has a propensity for throwing punches at strangers. Thankfully, even I can knock a man down in his eighties, especially with a walking stick. And that's when the trouble started. A brutish pair of lads were standing idly by and sought to intervene. Not wishing any further punches to be thrown in my direction, I suggested to the boys the man had made improper suggestions to me, pointing to a hedge and throwing my hips slightly forward rhythmically. Well I ask you, is the whole world deaf? How can these barely literate thugs have misconstrued my defence for beating the old codger? Did they really think I wanted to engage in lewd acts with them? Or were they just angry that I had hit their grandad? I'll never know unfortunately, because they beat me so viciously I'm in a permanent vegetative state.