the wellingtonista

So ‘ere I was, Sunday morning tucking into a phat as big brekkie at Fidel’s, vege option of course, when who’d ya think but Mark fricken Blumsky strolls in after carefully leaving his pet peeve, I mean dog, outside.
I try not to take much notice of him and continue whacking down my eggs and hashies but he’s so loud the whole place is hearing him rave on about what his lot are up to and their plans for world domination. Well I flick out my Vodafone Nokia 6121 and hit record just in time to hear him say, using very slurred words indeed, “for the last time, I…. didn’t fall down those stairs. I … was ..n’t twunk”. Oh bliss! What a morning coffee, music, Fidel’s and confessions from the ol’ mayor.

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