11th December 2017
“Vultures, vultures everywhere.”
    That’s what that asshole in Casablanca said. Or something like that, anyway. And he was right: I visited Homebase this morning to buy a bronze bucket and a new, gleaming pair of twattybangles for the garden and who had just swooped in and bought the entirety of the remaining stock? That’s right: a flump (to use the collective noun) of vultures.
    For supper, I ate an engine to perk myself up.
    Brrm-brrm, it went.
    Brrrm-brrm.