Well that’s it. Bloody typical. I am not impressed. In fact, dare I say it, I am extremely angry.
Not only are The Four Little Seymours constantly getting at each other to the point of ridiculum, arguing over the sodding iPad, or the motley selection of dining chairs, or The Favourite Fucking Fork, there is also a much more pressing problem to deal with. A problem that has dashed my hopes, and removed any chance of my contingency plan ever being possible.
Yes, dear friends, I am referring to the betrayal that is… NICK KNOWLES GOING INTO THE GODDAM JUNGLE!
How very dare he. He must know how much I am relying on him to support my mental image of potential rescue when it all gets too much. Surely word has got to him by now that a visit from him and his team would be most welcome? I suspect that at this stage in the game, even Big Seymour wouldn’t turn him away. He’s a proud man, but neither is he stupid. DIYSOS on your doorstep, offering to do and pay for the rest of the work? Yes please, thank you very much. That’ll do nicely.
But it’s not going to happen, is it. Not now Knowles has buggered off to the jungle to faff about with spiders and eat some genitalia. And afterwards, his star status will have been elevated to another level, and he won’t be coming anywhere near The Funny Little Bungalow. He’ll be far too busy doing panto and chat shows.
Oh well. Hopefully, by the time he’s done with all that, we won’t need him anyway. The swarthy git.
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