Foot Club

I don’t usually read horoscopes, but this one was standout weird because it said, ‘You are going to kill your father and marry your mother’.

I was still thinking about who the hell write those things what the hell gives them the power to tell us what the future will be, when this asshole cut right in front of me and I gave him the finger and the ornery old buzzard gets out of his car and he’s not coming over to give me a bunch of flowers.

Well, I’m not going to get out of my motor and have anyone laughing at my big club foot, so I open the door like I am going to get out and then I put my big foot down and let the door do the business.

Something tells me I should go to the Acropolis Bar where Yanni knows what a bloke needs to steady his nerves.

As fate would have it, she is a Fox, a bit old maybe, but hot as hell and I’m not one to wait for a written invitation, although hers would have read, ‘My place, not yours, and now’.

It was lucky that the cops came to the door when they did, otherwise the sheets might of caught fire, but it’s not me that they’re after, they’ve come to tell her that her old man is dead and she doesn’t seem too cut up about it, from the look on her face when she comes back up to bed, and I can think of a lot worse places to lay low than a beachfront mansion with a lovely view of the widow.