Tuesday, 28 August 2007
Justin.
Justin, my best mate from Tottenham has just phoned. This is our conversation.
Justin: I need to ask you something.
Me: Go ahead. What is it?
Justin: Are you on medication?
Me: No, I am NOT!
Justin: Okay. I think that perhaps you should consider it.
Me: Cheeky bugger, get lost!
Justin: Perhaps we can go for a drink later, share a beer, with two straws.
Me: Maybe.
Justin: I've just spoken to my grandmother on the phone, she told me to "Fuck-off!" She's mad, just like you. She hung up on me. I was only wishing her happy birthday.
Me: What prompted the call?
Justin: I am fed-up. I met a friend on Sunday, he was an hour late, and when he turned up, he just sat there snogging another guy.
Me: Why didn't you walk out?
Justin: I did in the end. When are you back?
Me: Me? I don't know, probably later on this afternoon.
Justin: You should give the doctor a rest, he needs his space.
Me: Right I'm off now.
Justin: Oh, by the way can you get your phone charged up, because every time I call you, it charges me forty pence.
Me: Okay, will do. Bye, love you.
Justin: Oh, and another thing no drinking on the train .... come straight home.
Me: What are you? My mother? Have some respect.
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