see, the problem with buying alcohol
and minors'
given you a tenner to
pretend to be their ******-uncle?
they give you a tenner,
and ask for VK **** *****
lemonade...
       and there you go,
buying them a litre of *****,
   adding an extra 7 quid to
                            the balance...
the ******* supermarket
     gargoyle minds the whole
affair...
   hollows your into the parking lot...
and then: whalla!
   theatre...
     a bit like trying to be a biology
teacher...
        no... not that
i didn't stomach the whole thing...
i actually added 6 quid
to the tenner already given...
    apparently
that didn't translate...
  even the supermarket
        manager decided to learn a lesson
in pedagogy...
******: let it go...
     placed the ***** bottle
and coke
     on the pave...
walked back with pontius
pilate fiddly hands:
    and where's your ten quid,
given my added six?!
    nice ****... shame
your friend and you're clown
         and she's: i'm guessing 15...
nice guess at a tick-tock though...
shame about your **** mouth
and:
    even with 10 quid worth of VK
shandy
you couldn't get via
what i just gave 6 quid free...
               did i really have to walk back
from the argument
with my hands on my head?
apparently i did...
   since the teenagers ran away
cursing me
and invoking a cain uncle
to beat me up...
   while the supermarket gorilla
asked me whether i forgot something?
lucky me...
a litre of ***** for 6 quid,
which...
   that dumb teen gave with
10 spare for the unnecessary
argument...
                 i already had
a litre of cognac...
              which makes the *****:
mind you, tomorrow;
ugh...
              does it always have
to resort to the nausea-glum-full
feeling of being right about:
    telling a colt to ******* when
you gave him more than he bargained for?
apparently it was
worth giving lessons...
     oddly enough
         i'm hardly the ***** teen
liberated in the mortal
                 commute.
bradey, brandon,
          branley, bradley,
  braydley...
             balcony and:
shy cognac...
                ******* woork
on unfolding
an umbrella...
                  spot a mushy mushy
peter?
                  tick-tock
autumnal time worth:
hygiene of... damp...
        cushion meat,
mushrooms...
    not exactly cartilege thrill...
   damp, slush-puppy...
    semi-molten-ice...
   you know the type...
wrist architecture
      when needing mowlars...
gnashy-****...
       could 'ave
asked the same question
by punhcing myself in the head...
shame, that i didn't.