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Can somebody tell God I am not a duck?

By John Hirst

Can somebody tell God I am not a duck?

When I went for an afternoon walk in the park with Rocky on October 31st, he sniffed out a chocolate bar that somebody was trying to hide from him and ended up stealing, taxing or extremely cadging it. I took it from Rocky only allowing him some and keeping the remainder intending to give it him at some later stage. However, later there was a quiet knock at the door and a couple of masked kids stood there quietly. I had forgotten to buy some treats. I gave them Rocky's chocolate. Then I went out and bought £3 of sweets, and no more knocks on the door. Sods law. I thought they would come in handy for my birthday on November 18th, or failing that at Christmas.

Approximately 7pm, as I passed the flat of "Black Tony", the local drug dealer, I looked up at his window and noticed the Santa sticker demanding "Santa Stop Here".

Twenty four hours later, November the first, he had got Christmas lights lit up in the window.

This morning Andrew Marr lost control of the sofa with the gobby Ruby Wax, time to go for a walk with Rocky. It was wet and windy. The park was waterlogged. Can somebody tell God I am not a duck?

Full post as published by prisonlawinsideout on November 02, 2008 (boomark / email).