Brace yself

I told you I’d bought food for the Brauer assuming the cupboard would be bare as Terry was away. What I didn’t tell you was I lost my car in the Brooklyn parking garage. For an hour. I searched high and low. Then the security man searched high and low. Then the security bosses took my key and drove round pressing the button, hoping for a “bleep” high and low.

Fokol

We found it. No-one told me there’s a Brooklyn Plaza and a Brooklyn Square and a Brooklyn Mall and . . – It was in one of those, but that was nothing. That wasn’t the problem. The problem was I had two packets of Checkers food, one in each hand, and as I walked my trousers kept slipping down. And then when they reached my knees I couldn’t walk to search for my car. My jockies were clean and unholy, and they weren’t green, but still . .

So that’s why I wear braces, I’m not wearing a belt any more, It doesn’t work.

~~oo0oo~~

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