A quiet mug of coffee

It was a lovely day on Saturday.

I decided to wander down to the village for a coffee and to get some petrol for the mower.

It was beautiful outside the coffee shop. Sandy lay at my feet and went to sleep in the sun. I got chatting to a couple of local blokes who are dog lovers. There were another couple of Tourists at the other table. They were both men and were holding hands. I decided to leave them alone because it was a nice day, and I don’t want to be accused of homophobia.

Now one of the Tourists stood up and tripped over Sandy. She didn’t mind. But he then turned around and kicked her in the ribs. Sandy minded that. Quick as lightning, she jumped to her feed and took his leg off, clean below the knee. She has very powerful jaws.

Tourist fell to the ground [he hadn’t much option] and my two pals started lacing into him as we hate cruelty to animals. Tourist’s Boyfriend started having hysterics, and he started throwing things at me.

He threw a plate. It missed. It bounced off the windscreen of an SUV that was driving past. The driver was a Yummy Mummy who was yacking on her mobile phone at the time so whatever concentration she had left was gone, and she drove into the back of a tourist bus, and exploded in a ball of flame. Well, I’m not sure if it was herself or the SUV that exploded, but it was quite spectacular.

People started running around throwing jugs of water and milk on the SUV. I had my ten litres of petrol that I’d bought for the lawnmower, and someone grabbed it and threw that on the conflagration. That didn’t help.

In the meantime, Tourist’s Boyfriend was really beginning to annoy me, screeching at me and throwing bread rolls at me, so I kicked him in the nuts. That shut him up. The other bloke was pumping blood on the ground and managed to mutter something about suing me. I couldn’t resist it. I told him he hadn’t a leg to stand on.

We went home then. There was no point in staying because the peace and tranquillity of the moment was gone.

I let Sandy keep the leg as a souvenir.

Bloody tourists.

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Comments

A quiet mug of coffee — 24 Comments

  1. Garcia Marquez would be impressed – all it lacks is a Dublin bus driver going down the street on a magic carpet.

    I assume the bit about Sandy being allowed to keep the leg is a bit of poetic licence, I can’t imagine Herself would allow bit of limbs lying around the house.

  2. Ian – Herself doesn’t mind as long as Sandy keeps the leg in the garden. She [Sandy] will probably bury it in the compost heap to let it ripen a bit. That’s what she usually does.

    Jelena – I think the loss of a leg, and having his boyfriend semi-castrated was enough. As I said – I was in a good mood.

  3. Hi Grannymar – Abusive as ever…..!

    Welcome Foreigner. It was a grand day all right. Though I hate violence towards animals. That sort of spoiled it a bit.

    I wonder if the road through the village is open again yet?

  4. hi was just surfing and came across your blog and i am so pleased i have. it is wonderful. just wish i had more time to read but i have bookmarked it and will be back. i am very new to this blogging thing so any advice or comments would be welcomed and well recieved. keep blogging. hugz lynda.

  5. Agree about the cruelty to animals bit.

    I think you should train couple of perky bulls to react (non-positively of course) to American accent! They could do way more damage than Sandy and it’s a heavy burden for poor soul to be solely responsible for dismembering tourists.

    Besides – who would suspect any harm of a happy young bull peacefully gnawing on flower baskets on main street!

  6. Jesus I hope Sandy was ok the cheek of some people bad enough they where foreigners, they then saw it fit to kick you dog, you should have casually poured your petrol over them and inadvertently dropped a match on them.

  7. Welcome Lynda! Advice? Keep going as you are! I’ll be back to read yours in full!

    Foreigner – Bulls tend to be a bit slow and dozy. Don’t underestimate Sandy. She is a beautiful dog, and tourists love to come and pet her. She’s a stealth weapon.

  8. Nonny – That might have damaged the coffee shop, and where would I go then?
    No. Sandy is fine. She has just smuggled a big toe indoors and is happily chewing it as I type.

  9. … the cheek of some people bad enough they were foreigners …

    This coming from a German commenting on an Irish site. Irony as delicious as a 2 litre bottle of Pepsi Max.

  10. Sneezy – The coffee is brilliant. It’s like the French stuff. You could tar a road with it. Two mugs, and you won’t sleep for a week.

    Daz – Always the bitter word! Anyway, you’re a foreigner. You are from Cavan, after all?

  11. Well, just because I’m living in the Big Shmoke as some of my less civilised fellow boghoppers would call it doesn’t mean I have to go around wearing a Cavan GAA jersey, as some believe …

  12. Baino – It’s a big mower. K8 calls it my Forest Gump machine [she even bought me a baseball cap!]. It’s one of those sit-on thingies.

    The Yummy Mummy was a local. She’s one of the snots that lives in the Big Estate [they don’t talk to the rest of us]. She has had all the signs – sunglasses on the head; always on the mobile at the top of her voice arranging tennis or sauna sessions; only using her SUV to drop Samantha to playschool and to block traffic. She had to go sooner or later.

    Daz – You can take the man out of the bog, but you can’t take the bog out of the man.

  13. I spit my tea all over my desk and computer screen! I love love love this blog. Its the highlight of my day.

    Laurie ( a Canadian fan of all your writings)

  14. It’s the highlight of my day …

    Good for you, Laurie.

    I bet you were expecting something sarcastic … see, I can be nice, when the courts demand it.

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