Tuesday, April 20, 2010

On Right Said Fred

On Right Said Fred

Hello. I am The Fragrant Mrs Duck and I am excellent. On this, our 19th wedding anniversary, let me tell you something AWFUL.

Some years ago, I made a dreadful mistake, over which I am truly ashamed.

I married that Duck fella.

I bought a Right Said Fred CD.

Yes, I know. It seemed a good idea at the time in an I'm-Too-Sexy-Deeply-Dippy kind of way, but through the years it has become a millstone around my neck, weighing down my very existence.

And the worst thing is this: I cannot - no matter how hard I try - get rid of it. Whenever I think it is out of my life, there it is, the lightly-oiled brothers Fairbrass and their meisterwerk, staring back at me.

- Ebay: No bids.
- Car boot sale: The only thing we brought home after the savages of Yeovil ripped the very clothes from our backs.
- Laughed out of Cash Convertors
- Charity shop: Take it from me - I didn't even know they employed security guards

So I threw it in the bin.

Pyotr knocked at the door.

Pyotr's knocked before.

"Hello, my name is Pyotr and I from council bin lory department. I give you YELLOW CARD!"

As my husband would say: Aww, crap.

"Yeah, just hand the bloody thing back, then."

"Right Said Fred. Is very naughty in recycling bin, you know. Yellow card. You get red card next time. You not want red card."

I pressed him on what - exactly - a red card would entail. I have a feeling the words "Right Said Fred" and "baby oil" were spoken, but my grasp of Eastern European languages is none too hot.

So, I ask: Anyone want a Right Said Fred CD? I'll give you any money.

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