Wednesday 20 January 2016

I'm in the Mood for Breadsticks

transvestite boy superhero costume knockoff funny failToday we had a different set of special visitors for special people - the men from the railway. They did railway safety for us and explained how dangerous it is to play chicken on the railway lines and how many kids and teenagers think they can impress their mates by doing a funny dance and then getting splatted by a train.
sports direct skiwear balaclavaThe Manager bloke said he used to be a driver but he had to sweep up so many people and go into the bushes looking for their scattered body parts and cleaning up the crispy fried human when they'd electrocuted themselves and that he'd seen the fabled ghostly Wichita Lineman and he just got sick of it and got a job back at the train yard.
The drivers get a couple of days off whenever someone jumps in front of the train and they told us about suicides and how it makes all the commuters late, and many stories of kids breaking their ankles and not realising it takes the train 20 football pitches to stop and how one driver said what's that sticking in my windscreen wipers and it was some fingers of the guy he'd had to put into some bags the day before, giving a 2-fingered salute right to the end.
swinging boys and one in shortsAnd then we did Wednesday Park. It wasn't particularly muddy but it was cold (the woodchips were frozen solid below a depth of 1 inch) so I put on some warm clothes (not including my new balaclava, which is too big and would be useful as an executioner's head-covering or for a re-enactment of the Norman invasion) and we got an hour and 20 minutes of exuberant play with the usual suspects and some hangers-on who realised just how much fun we can have with 1 giant tennis ball, 3 apple cores, some breadsticks and a bag of woodchips.
We played ball-tag while chanting spur-of-the-moment songs about breadsticks such as "I'm in the mood for Breadsticks" and substituting other words for 'Bread' in there, it's amazing how many words we know when we think the parents can't hear. We went home when it was dark and we'd outlasted all the other park-goers. Later I played Jof at Totopoly and all my horses died, not for the first time.

No comments:

Post a Comment

Hi! I'm glad you want to comment, for I like messages from humans. But if you're a Robot spam program, Google will put you in the spam folder for me to laugh at later.