For a while there, Hell had frozen over and the world had inverted on its axis. When I looked out my window, the hills around Thamesmead were alive with the sound of music and pigs were flying.
In fact at one point, the Kuwaitis had pledged 80% of their GDP to charity to alleviate world suffering and paid decent salaries to their maids. Monkeys flew out of my arse at regularly scheduled intervals and Arab managers across the middle east decided to be honest.
The world has been a very unusual place for about 2 months. I’ve been on cloud 9 and humming the tune to Shabba Ranks’s “Mr Loverman” and getting to the bit where I go “Champion Lover, always up tonight WOOOOAH!” and believing that I was some sort of uber-lover (clearly deluded).
But all of this has had some basis in true fact for the last 2 months and heck have I been chuffed with myself. For a while there, the unthinkable had happened. I had got laid.
But fear not readers for the Mischief you know is back. The fires of Hell burn bright again, the Kuwaitis have changed their mind and asked for their donations back with interest at 15% a year, the streets of Thamesmead are only alive with the smell of dogshit as usual and I am single again.
Let Mischief roll on…
