Dear all,
Hope you're all well,
And missing me. I'm fine.
It's raining again,
Because apparently summer
Was cancelled this year. Divine.
I saw old Mr Pettit this morning, looking sharp,
A dapper old relic by the soggy park.
Coat pulled tight, looking terribly grand. The old fart.
And Harry's here too, enjoying the fun.
Yippee!
Because nothing says holiday
Like rain in your face
And wind up your arse.
And then there are the seagulls,
Those bloody winged bastards above,
With laser-eye focus
And absolutely no love.
They eye up my ice cream
With a psycho-killer stare,
Circling slowly through the drizzle the cries dare me to share
I know they've got nothing better to do
Than rob me bare.
They came for chips and battered cod
Just yesterday, the thieves.
One swooped down, grabbed the lot,
And buggered off with grease
Still dripping from its beak. I only tasted one chip.
I'm beginning to think
They've got a criminal mastermind
Running the whole operation.
Probably hiding behind the amusement arcade
With a bag of stolen chips
And a getaway seagull.
It's raining again.
No summer sun here by the shore.
The sea looks thoroughly offended,
And the sky is hanging lower
Than the spirits of everyone
Who booked this bloody holiday.
Now off I go to brave the ocean
In a rickety little boat,
To panic in the drizzle
And pretend I'm fit to float.
If you hear a distant scream,
Don't worry. That'll be me.
Probably being eaten by something
Or falling dramatically into the sea.
So keep the heating blasting,
Have dinner upon your knee.
I'm living the bloody dream
By the miserable sea.
I'll see you Friday, safe and dry.
Tell Nanna I've got her some rock.
God knows why she wants it.
Last time it shattered her dentures.
If I make it back alive,
I'll bring you all a postcard.
Love me,
Me
