What A Bum Birthday

After a spot of Merseyrail Guard trouble John and I had an interesting morning. First of all he wanted to browse the CDs in the charity shop. I have nothing against charity shops and regularly donate clothes etc. However this one is an elephants graveyard for octogenarians and smells strongly of bleach, which was making my eyes water. He chose 2 Christmas albums for £2.98 and the lady on the till who was a 102 if she was a day, gave me change of £5.01 out of a £20 note! I am all for charity but hey! Anyway she then patted my arm and said I shouldn’t get upset as ‘god only gave burdens to people with big shoulders’. I didn’t bother to explain that I wasn’t crying it was just the effects of the bleach or that I didn’t consider John to be a burden.
We then went to trouble the miserable man in the electrical shop, who was squatting in front of a large flat screen TV with his trousers revealing most of his crack and his top lip an impressive porn star moustache, presumably for Movember.

Can’t wait to startle him in Fanuary!

Anyway John shouted ‘Bum’ several times as I am forever saying it to him when his pants slip down…. so funny. I think the miserable man smiled at us again, although it might have been a grimace, hard to tell under the moustache.
Today’s balloon chosen by John stated ‘Birthday Boy’ in big letters. This prompted lots of people we bumped into, literally as John has no spatial awareness, to shout ‘Ah bless, is it his birthday?’ (Why do strangers always raise their voice when talking to us? Maybe it’s Johns headphones. Anyway I digress) I eventually gave up saying ‘no he just likes balloons’.
On the return journey home the old man who is always on the train and knows John sang happy birthday and cheered; this prompted two old ladies sporting very strange headgear to join in.
By now John was starting to think it just might be his birthday after all so he decided to sit next to the old man and yell ‘cake!’ and ‘Presents!’ in his ear. I fear he is turning into a younger version of Father Jack… ‘Feck! Drink! Girls!’

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