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Location: Kent, United Kingdom

A 50 year old wet blanket.

Sunday, April 02, 2006

I don't believe you, Geoff. I can't see him.

I open my wardrobe door. Standing before me, in shirt, pants, and socks, my trousers in his hand, is Brian Rix.

He smiles at me.

"I've found them!" he says.

5 Comments:

Blogger Urban Chick said...

is he holding a plunger in his other hand?

1:15 PM  
Blogger Geoff said...

I'm not letting him near MY sink.

5:08 PM  
Blogger Mark Gamon said...

It's all right. He'll disappear through the door stage right in a moment. That's how farce works. I expect in another couple of minutes a well-spoken lady in a 30s ballgown will appear stage left, accompanied by a policeman, and loudly demand to know where the man who used to be wearing your trousers has gone. This will not of course be Brian Rix, who was merely holding your trousers. The real culprit is a man with a monocle who has a dastardly plan to steal the family estate out from under you and is currently scheduled to climb through the window at the end of Act Two, Scene Three.

I trust this clarifies matters.

11:02 AM  
Blogger Geoff said...

Welcome back, Mark. And thank you for the advice.

I'm off to see Run For Your Wife.

1:36 PM  
Blogger Cie Cheesemeister said...

And where exactly did you lose them in the first place?

6:58 AM  

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