Friday, 26 July 2013

Attack of the burger.

After our summer fete extravaganza, I popped back to the yard to see Reg. He too was unimpressed, and repeated his speech, about people not deserving to be alive. According to him, no one has complained, and besides, just fuck them and not leave. He invited me to his 'drum'. Haven't heard that one for ages! I'm allowed to sleep in the driveway, as apparently the dog gets upset with visitors sleeping inside. Considering I'm not 'allowed' on the yard, it's for the best. Aaaaand his dog has fleas. Serious fleas. And the damned dog loves jumping up. Do you know how hard it is to get a giant dog off of you, when the owner won't allow you to just shove it away. If he'd trained him in the first place, this wouldn't be an issue. Damn mutt climbs on everything. Before you moan, I like dogs, I love them even, but it's a dog. They should only get on the sofa with permission. And certainly not when they're infested.

I've been warned. People on the yard think I'm a whore. Charming. This is because I go onto peoples boats, to have a look around. At which point does looking at boats, translate to jumping on dicks? Repeat of the same stories, blah blah blah.

Went to smoke in the field. On the other side of the bridge were the cows. I really don't like the way they look at me. They were on the same field, but surrounded by a stream - cows apparently don't cross water. Dan assured me that waving a stick at a cow will make it go away. Seems tribal. I'd have preferred a shotgun, but apparently those aren't allowed. We were there on a bench, as far away as possible, when I spotted a cow looking shifty from a distance. Dan, I said, that cow will cross the bridge. No it won't, he said. I wasn't listening as I walked, swiftly, back to safety. Less than ONE minute later the cow ran, not walked, ran across the bridge. I'm the fucking cow whisperer now. In the distance there were three brave [read stupid] humans walking across the field. The cow was running straight towards them. The two women started to run, but the man stood there, arms folded pretending to be a gangsta. The cow kept running. He stood there. At this point I'm having a breakdown from the other side. Run you fool, run! And boy, did he run. I've never seen a cow run like that, said Dan calmly. I'm flipping sweating. I told you they were beasts from hell. 10 minutes after that, we were round the corner, when the three [clearly insane] people came into view, having walked back through the enemy lines. The two women were clearly distressed and the man was being macho about it. Dan was just pissing himself laughing, and I was expressing my concern for their life. I really wanted to slap that man. Arrogant twat.

Learnt a new skill from Dan. How to throw knives at trees [or humans]. It was freaking awesome, and a little scary. When you hit it wrong, it'll bounce back a good 4ft. I probably only got it right 5 in 100 times. Pissing himself laughing again, he informed me that he would feel totally safe, if I were throwing knives at him. Good odds. Then it was my turn to laugh, when he shouted to the dog - Trix, get out of there, you're in the death zone. She was 10ft away. Although I only hit the tree 1/3 of the time, so it's understandable.

When we got back to the boat, the lunatic decided it'd be fun to play the knife finger game. I decided to use a pen. Then he handed me another knife [as I'd broken the other one murdering trees] and plonked his had on the table in front of me. I declined, and practised on myself first. I got quite fast! Then I played with his hand, and he still has 10 fingers. Result.

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