Rum do at the café

What’s the world coming to?  I’m taken to my favourite café en famille: the whole lot – mum, Irish cousin, sprog and friend – and I don’t get a single mouthful.  I was made to sit right under the table because the place was so busy and I think they forgot about me while scoffing their bacon sandwiches, pancakes with maple syrup, and cake.  Not a single bite came my way, never mind pancake.

As retribution I pulled at every lamp post and did two poos on the way home to show my displeasure.  All while it was raining and howling an icy windy.  I have ways of getting my own back after such a rum do.

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