I’ve flown in a balloon. I’ve been out on a yacht. Out of reach on the reach. I’ve been off on a tangent. Footed turf, hedged bets, couched potatoes, walled gardens.
I’ve been up in a parachute. Down in the dumps. On time. Off topic.
I’ve driven trucks. In driven snow. Drove a bargain. Worked a digger. Built holes. Mixed cement. Muddied waters.
A freelance marketeer: Your ad - on my arse. A freelance gynaecologist: Dr. Sneeze - at your cervix.
Fixed the wiring. Boiled it down to the kettle. Studied the past. Passed my studies. Tended a flock. Attended a ball. Balled an attendant.
Drank a toast. Ate some raw. Called it bread. Been on telly. Binned the telly.
Pulled pints. Pulled stunts. Been pulled up. Called out. Carried on.
Cut corn. Shoed a cob. Shooed hens. Chickened out. Been arrested, but released. Wasn’t charged. Have no record. Was charged twice for a record.
Made a break. Made a mug. Got mugged in Marseilles. Legless in Łódź. Walked on the tracks. Slept by a signal so I wouldn’t get lost.
Thrown off a horse. Onto my feet. Kicked by a cow. Kicked her back. Went in off the black. Ended up in the red.
Travelled by cardboard - a sign saying Anywhere and Home on the back. Hijacked a Tannoy and got barred from a field-day. Stayed camped on a pitch right through a game. Got barred from a town. Got barred from the bed and pitched the tent in her kitchen. Can’t go back to Kanturk.
Fell through dance floor one New Year’s Eve. Ambulance came. Told them to leave. Wore a suit into Maggie’s. Dogs’ abuse from the bikers but no broken bones.
Drove under the barrier into the yard. Unloaded the van and couldn’t get out. Sold coal to the Arabs. Sand to Newcastle. Bought shares in a nag, now called Pedigree Chum.
So …







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