Читать книгу More Blood, More Sweat and Another Cup of Tea - Tom Reynolds - Страница 39

An ideal invention for the blogger in your family would be a pair of video-recording glasses—wear them all day, and should something interesting happen the wearer presses a button to save the last 30 seconds of video to a small storage device.

If that were possible I’d now be showing you a video of a lovely young man.

I was driving along on blue lights and sirens (to an ‘intoxicated—feeling unwell’) just heading past the Underground station when from the pavement I could hear someone shouting: ‘Wanker…Wanker…Wanker.’ He was also making the traditional hand gestures.

A quick look at him led me to believe that he was either homeless or an alcoholic, or both. I could see that he had no front teeth and he only looked around 30 years old.

I slowed the ambulance so that my crewmate and I could laugh loudly in his general direction.

He turned his back on us.

He bent over.

He pulled his trousers down.

Suddenly we were confronted with a skinny white arse, and dangling between his legs were equally white and skinny testicles.

They looked shaved.

Just then a police car came over the hill.

I wound down my window and spoke to the police driver, ‘See that fellow with no teeth? He just exposed himself to me.’

‘The one calling you a wanker?’ asked the policeman.

‘That’s the one…Have fun!’

We continued on the way to the call as best we could between tears of laughter.

It’s strange the things that make your day.