Friday, December 2, 2011

Charity begins over the road

You know those really slim elegant women who dive into the water with hardly a trace of a splash then swim 20 really quick lengths of sleek front crawl in a graceful manner then effortlessly hop out over the side and still manage neat hair?  I want to be one of those instead of a wallowing hippopotamus who lumbers up and down the pool puffing and panting then hauls her massive arse up the steps that she feels will give way any moment then tries to wrap her wobbly bits in a silly little towel.  Actually, the towels at the club are quite generous. Unfortunately, so's my bum.

Somehow Thursday has become Friday and the week has disappeared and I haven't taken the calendars to the printers or the car to the garage or the teeth to the dentist or the dog to the vet or the cakes to the church.  Oh who cares?  Everything will come fine in the end.  I try to delegate tasks to Mr Smith but I think he just prefers being bored.

I took the dog for a walk through the council estate with the crunch of syringes under foot to take my Christmas donation round to the local yoof charity.  I asked directions from a woman who looked like she had a crack cocaine addiction whilst coming down from her latest heroin fix  I have to own up to the reason I support this charity is a sort of insurance policy for keeping the little sods off my car and my property. Also, I like what they do. They take kids to Africa like pop stars doing rednose projects.  They give them a place to hang out, things to do that aren't criminal and get them off drugs and/or drug running.  They are actually totally brilliant. Keep up the good work. www.regenerateuk.co.uk.

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