Thursday, June 10, 2010

Beaches Of Cheyenne

There was this bloke, right? And he–
You can't start stories like that, Mummy.
Why not, dear?
All stories begin, "Once upon a time".
Bollocks they do.
What's "bollocks", Mummy?
Sorry, dear, I was talking to myself.
Do you often talk to yourself, Mummy?
All the time when I'm not talking to someone else.
Daddy's stories are crap.
That's not a nice word, dear.
Daddy said people crap all the time.
Never mind what Daddy said.
Has Daddy got bollocks, Mummy?
Yes, darling, but I don't like you using that word.
What about the bloke, Mummy?
Yes, he had them, too.
I meant, What happened to him?
Oh, I see. Well, one day he was walking–
Through the wood?
Don't interrupt, dear.
Sorry, Mummy, it's just all of your stories are about people walking through woods.
Oh really? Well, this bloke was walking along the beach.
The beach?
It's the part between the sea and the land.
I know what a beach is, Mummy. Did you know beaches can have children?
I don't think so, dear.
That's what Daddy told me, anyway.
You shouldn't believe everything your father tells you, dear.
Because he's a great big son of a beach, Mummy? . . .

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