Wake up, and look at this thing that I bring!
Ibuprofen. Lots of Ibuprofen.
So, we's three are sat in Starbucks. See No Evil, Hear No Evil, and Speak No Evil. Or just a triplicity of cheeky monkeys
Anyhoo, after much mockery of dresslexics, much perving at passing Pretties, and discourse of many a varied nature, that blight on the landscape stopped outside the window.
The Bagpiper from outside Marks & Spencer.
That honking great cacophony that doth assault all ears, much to the intense dislike of the public.
Anyhoo, he stops and opens his Savers carrier bag, and pulls out a pack of Ibuprofen,
And another...
Then another...
Then a fourth! At least 4 packs of Ibuprofen! Oh wait, he's a piper in full scotchman regalia!
At least 4 packs of IrnBruProfen!
And he immediately downs four tablets in quick successtion, before emptying the boxes and secreting the remaining 60 deep within the dark recesses of his hairy sporran.
That's 4 in under a minute, and preparation to have access to another 60 by rummaging in his groinal bag!
I know listening to bagpipery can drive you mad, and you want to kill yourself to escape the pain of the screeching horny bladder, but it's come to something when you are the actual blower upon said horny bladder and you have to take numerous numbing narcotics just to cope with having to blow your own trumpety behemoth!
