Christmas Past.

What do you want for Christmas? I was thinking potatoes. No! What then? ‘I dropped a hint two months ago. Remember, when we were in town.’ Why do I always forget to buy a notebook in August and carry it around with me to capture just such information. Without the aid of modern technology two months ago means nothing to me. I wouldn’t remember getting run over if I didn’t still have the bruises. So starting from zero I’ve advanced to minus ten by just opening my mouth. Like garage flowers. How do women know they’re garage flowers? I mean it’s not written on them, they look perfectly fine to me, and so convenient. Petrol, fags, flowers, and on your way. Maybe they smell of diesel. No it’s just far too convenient isn’t it. Love is shown by taking the train to Gatwick, jumping on a plane, buying a tulip and returning with it in your teeth. I mean where did this mouth/flower thing come from? You’d just bite through a flower stem and though a rose would take it your face would bleed.
I turn to magazine present edition. Bike mp3 player and torch, £99.99, iwantoneofthose.com. What! That must be £19.99 for the illuminating player and £80 for being gullible enough to look for prezez in a magazine. Star Trek bottle opener, £8.99. That’s more like it. Then Indian glitter swirl wrap, £3.95 a meter. For wrapping paper! What’s wrong with the woodchip left over from the dining room! Come on save the planet people. I wrack my brain, what happened in town in September? Of course! We bought some cat food from that big pet store, and … and she said how much she liked that dog basket. Dog Basket! I buy the dog basket, wrap it, bow it up hide it and relax. It’s Christmas eve and I suddenly remember what she actually said. “What a lovely dog basket. Shame we don’t have a dog.” Bugger!