Innuendo or 700 UP

Innuendo or 700 UP ©

By Michael Casey

Nudge nudge wink wink, you know what I mean, what’s it like, to win an Election as Miliband asked Cameron.  Eric Idle isn’t in Parliament yet, so we won’t be talking about the size of his majority, or how big his swingers are, sorry I write that again, the size of his swing, the one he has in his garden, under his oak tree, he is a conservative, conservationist I mean. It’s all a load of Politics, and you know what Politicians are like, a load of silly stunts, have I mistyped that?

There was a menu in stone, not even our local take away has a menu writ in stone, writ on plastic so when the drunks heave it can be cleaned up with a bucket of water, I think that what Hung Ho said, I’ll ask my Shanghai wife to translate. Put or is it but, disloxia however you can’t spell it, transposes words like that, or maybe I just type faster than my brain spells.

Innuendo was an album by Queen, I’ve got it in my box somewhere, you are all ahead of me now, you dirty dirty little twits, did I misspell that too? I’ll have to start using a dictionary, I don’t mean shoving it my nose either. Where did  you all go to school, you bunch of readers, and I deliberately miswrote that time, you’re all a bunch of readers. And where did you go to school anyway?

Eric Idle, Cambridge. Nothing to do with punting on the Cam, what does punting mean anyway, though I could guess, you and your python, I bet that has something to do with impressing the girls. Seeing a Don to guide you with your studies when you weren’t busy punting, what do Dons do? Do they teach you extortion and murder skills, plus Medieval Latin so you can write frightening notes  to the opposition farting about in Oxford, the dark side as it’s known as.

And before I forget why do all the spies and traitors come from Cambridge, is it a bridge over troubled water, or too much punting made them blind, blind to the love of their Country. Footlights what does that mean anyway, what did Stephen fry anyway, was it his kippers, and that’s what all the stink was about his “performance” no wonder his friend drove a lorry up the Cam, which must have been very painful, so he became a doctor in America.

What is Snow Whites favourite drink, well you can make your own mind up about that. I used to be a shandy drinker for a few years, then Jonathan introduced me to lager and pints, and no that’s no metaphor. Stella Artois is nice, and no Stella isn’t a girls’ name and Artois doesn’t mean “are you” Stella Artois is just a great drink, I may even have one when I have something to celebrate, heart pills permitting.

I have gone all tangential again, and what’s a Tangerine Dream, it sounds disgusting to me, oh it’s for my ears, I thought it was form of cricket box, to help players performance, or rather to protect their performance. And why when they are in they are out, and when they are out they are in, is it some form of dance? And what’s all this stopping for tea? Tea? Have they not heard of Costa Coffee, or even Stella Artois?

Rugby that’s my game, real men, with oval balls, it’s a sad affliction, but it does explain the way they walk. Why do they huddle with their bums in the air and move about like crabs, they haven’t got, no of course not, half the team are doctors after all. Or they used to be, very violent doctors but doctors none the less. Injure then Heal was their motto.

Well I can hear screaming behind me, no my behind isn’t screaming, I’ve hardly eaten all day, it’s my daughters behind me. I have to feed them before choir practice. Yes real singing, no metaphors included, they are in a choristers. So I’ll finish now this has been my 700^th piece of short writing, Julie Andrews is ringing the doorbell, she gives them a lift in her Subaru, such a noisy woman, and such a bad driver, I’m sure she’ll fall off a cliff.