Neither is TV, but that’s no excuse to stop throwing them out the window
I’m not the kind of writer to make misteaks in a public forum. Such shenanigans are reserved for the likes of rock stars. These depraved degenerates, who care as much for rules as a revolutionary at a Toff’s Tea Party, could do a damn sight better than the likes of Trump, Johnson and Justin Bieber. So, if you like your stories thrown out the window and into the pool, come join us on the Highway to Hell. For those that choose to stay behind, if I’m not back again this time tomorrow, carry on. Carry on, as if nothing really matters.
I like my TVs like I like my modern-day smoking habits, out the window. And that’s where I bumped into my girlfriend. Suffice to say she enquired as to what the hell I was doing in the ladies restroom of the local bar, standing on the toilet, blowing smoke out the window.
“Don’t worry about it, babe. I’m just having a smoke before I go back on stage for the encore. The fans love me!”
I overheard her talking to some fat-bottomed girls, “I’m really sorry about him,” says she as she points at me. “Whenever he smokes weed, it induces a psychotic episode and he thinks he’s Freddie Mercury. Look like I’ll to take him home.”
I then tried to explain to her that the show must go on. But, she just wasn’t listening.
“Lee”, says she, “you say you want to break free, ride your bicycle and make a supersonic man out of me, but seriously Lee, what is it you want from all this nonsense?”
“I want it all and I want it now,” I said. Jeez! Some people just don’t listen.
“Lee, have you been smoking that wacky baccy again?” she asks.
“Come on!” says I, “you know how much I dislike people that take drugs, like Airport security, for example. Also, weed know if anyone’s been smoking cannabis in this place.” I love her to bits but she can be a tad mad sometimes.
“Lee, you’re talking absolute shit again,” says she.
“Can I ask you a question?” asks me.
“Yeah, sure”, for some unknown reason she looked really annoyed.
“So,” says I, “do you think the guy who came up with ‘one-hit-wonder’, came up with any other phrases?”
“Right, that’s it Lee, get down, now!” says she, grabbing my hand and pulling me down off the toilet.
“Lee, you’re such a mess! Look at the state of you!”
“Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?”
“Lee!” says she.
“No!” I shouted, “my name is not Lee! My name is Freddie!”
“Okay, Freddie, let’s get you home. Do you know where you put your coat?”
“No, but Brian May.”
Originally published in Medium publication The Swipe, 3rd February 2020