One in a million *

I’m at my wits’ end I’m a bundle of nerves shot to pieces I’m beside myself don’t know if I’m coming or going   miserable as a bandicoot death warmed up oh Christ I look like something the cat dragged in I look like a dog’s breakfast     he won’t be back

chin up best foot forward plenty more fish in the sea eggs in one basket couldn’t give two hoots   I’m trying to look on the bright side but it makes my flesh crawl madder than a wet hen can’t trust him as far as you can throw him cold fish chalk and cheese one day he’s as nice as pie good as gold oh yeah butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth then before you know it he’s going off the deep end   he’s hopping mad he’s going spare mad as a cut snake flying off the handle face like thunder off his trolley off his scone

oh yeah I backed the wrong horse all right shoulda known he was up to no good so bloody full of himself thinks he’s the bee’s knees the cat’s pyjamas the ant’s pants best thing since sliced bread give me a break all mouth and no trousers about as much use as a chocolate teapot   who does he think he is he’s no oil painting nothing to write home about bald as a coot looks like the back end of a bus weak as piss no hoper up himself fart in a thunderstorm drinks like a fish and a barefaced liar to boot liar! couldn’t lie straight in bed

and don’t talk to me about that dog of his talk about a fly in the ointment talk about the elephant in the room old fleabag bag of bones blind as a bat barging round the place like a bull in a china shop barking mad howling like the bloody banshee   fair crack of the whip where does he get off leaving me to look after it while he goes off on one of his wild goose chases off he goes grinning like a Cheshire cat happy as a dog with two tails grinning like a shot fox looking like all his Christmases had come at once done up like a dish of fish flash as a rat with a gold tooth   I wasn’t born yesterday you have to get up early to put one over on me I can see the way the wind’s blowing once bitten twice shy if he’s not back on Tuesday like he said that dog’ll be out of here so fast it won’t know what hit it rat up a drainpipe it’ll be history it’ll be all over red rover   all over bar the shouting

yeah but he thinks the world of that dog thinks the sun shines out of its arse loves it like a brother apple of his eye nothing he wouldn’t do for it   says who there you go again haven’t got the sense you were born with no fool like an old fool oh yeah he swore black and blue he’d be back on Tuesday don’t hold your breath Tuesday Schmoozday you’re clutching at straws he’s taken you for a ride he’s shot through curtains sailed off into the wide blue yonder he has and you’re in the hot seat holding the baby the dog I mean oh he’s got the gift of the gab all right but it’s not worth the paper it’s written on     every trick in the book   you’re flogging a dead horse you’re barking up the wrong tree enough to make a cat laugh what a mug what a nong what a dope what a clown couldn’t see the truth if it bit your nose off call a spade a spade he won’t be back

those were the days though talk about laugh that night we went to the dogs with Chokka and he’s talking sort of French jabbering away bongjewer messewer he’s saying and Chokka’s saying what what thick as two short planks Chokka talk about laugh you wouldn’t read about it I nearly wet myself I always did like a good laugh got to give him that when all’s said and done and not one of those blokes that can’t keep his pants on either not one of those tits and arse blokes that stripper at the Globe the cheek of her but I wasn’t having any of it sent her off with a flea in her ear didn’t bat an eyelid I gave her what for gave her the rounds of the kitchen if looks could kill and he laughed like a drain you’re one in a million Di he said one in a million

You never know though he might come waltzing in any tick of the clock cool as a cucumber happy as Larry cock of the walk flash as a rat with a gold tooth look what the cat dragged in I’ll say long time no see I’ll say what took you so long like that time I coulda sworn he’d done a bunk and all the time he was in the slammer on a drunk and disorderly given up the grog he reckons on the wagon swore blind I’ll believe that when I see it with my own eyes I should too size of a house fair fat and forty lard arse two ton Tessie   one in a million Di   no got to give him that he never was a pants man not a bad bloke really could do worse better than a poke in the eye with a burnt stick kick in the teeth devil you know he’s nuts about that dog     one in a million         he won’t be back

*this piece first appeared in Visible Ink 22, Feb 2011

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