Personal Blogs

I was walking along the corridor behind my business-manager this morning. I noticed that he was wearing a pair of simon-cowell-esque trousers, this required me to say something.

"It is true what they say then".

"What's true?" He swivelled to face me.

"That your buttocks slide down your legs as you age".

"Rubbish! What do you mean?"

"Yours are on the move south."

"Crap!"

I hadn't meant anything by it really, but I was well gratified by his response; he walked on, contorting his body in a failed attempt to get a good look at his own arse. Hit a nerve there then. Not a good idea to expose that type of weakness.

Later Danny and I passed him, "ah, the local fascists" he cheerfully greeted us. [We wear black t-shirts, black combats, serious work-boots and hi-viz bomber jackets.]

"See what I mean?" I asked Danny as we were a few yards further on.

"I'd already noticed", Danny replied. Again we were treated to the dog chasing own tail/man looking at own bottom behaviour from the retreating BM.

"He'll be asking his wife about that tonight." Danny laughed, later, as we were having a fag at the back gate.

"Now all we need to do is find a teacher who he thinks we can't put up to it, to make the observation. And when we do I want you to note that he'll be drinking a lot less of that designer coffee he's so fond of." I pointed a finger.

"Eh?!"

"It's going to cost him a fortune to get a tailor to lengthen all those suit jackets."