"What – in the name of all that is holy - is that smell coming from downstairs?"I hesitate to tell her, but the truth must out.
"You know dogs?"
"Yes. Yes we have one."
"And you know that Jackson Pollock?"
"Yeeeesss…"
She sounds suspicious, and I do not blame her. Poor, dead J. Pollock – he has so much to answer for.
"Well, imagine he had what you might call a 'brown period'. And instead of paint, he squeezed poor, sweet, shat-all-over-the-kitchen Lucy Minogue like a set of bagpipes."
"Right. And how much is 'all over the kitchen'?"
"Further than you think possible. I didn't notice until I was halfway to the fridge."
"Bare feet?"
"Slippers. They are burning outside. That's the other smell."
I flee.
9 comments:
That'll teach you to feed vindaloo to poor Lucy Minogue.
My 2 cavs - Lily Mussolini and Danny Piranha - can manage nothing hotter than a Dopiaza. Yet.
Second for poo. Not sure this was what I was expecting when getting up earlier than usual...
You need CILLIT BANG!
Fourth for turds.
I thought you said Lucy Minogue only did lavender scented little parcels?
What? You weren't sick inna hedge from the smell? Disappointing.
Poor wee Lucy Minogue, her wee bum will be red-hot, is it no?
I just hope she didn't lick your face after she licked her bum clean
I met one of Lucy's distant cousins last weekend. I do so hope Lucy is considerably calmer.
Doggie ADHD. That dog had it.
The only evil thing in the whole friggin castle is me! Phew do I truly stink too, only when I want to(natch).
I have come to save Pollacks soul. 1 for the pollacks!
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