the clarksons
Fraser’s mum and dad got here about midday. Fraser’s brother Clive was with ‘em. Clive is a bald version of Fraser. He’s never had any luck on the hair front Clive. He was born ginger which is always annoying but then to top it all he went completely bald at the age of 22 the poor sod. It’s like … fucking hell … leave me alone.
It was obvious to me straight away that Clive was here on a freeman’s. Him and Fraser couldn’t stand the fucking sight of each other so you knew he wasn’t here out of brotherly love. He was here for the booze and the duty free. And it didn’t take a breath test to see that he was already 4 sheets to the fucking wind.
Fraser’s dad Roger is a small gnome headed bloke who’s always got a fucking tale to tell. He’s had more adventures than Baron Munchausen that cunt. Anything you’ve done you can guarantee that he’s done it and done it a lot more times than you have. I mean the famous people he’s met would put Michael Parkinson to shame. According to Roger he was actually the first person on the scene when Douglas Bader crashed his plane. A remarkable feat considering he was still 2 years short of being born at the time. Also, he loves the fact that he’s the only one alive who knows where Lord Lucan is due to the fact that he was privy, via a cross line, to a conversation the old etonian had on the phone with someone a few days before he vanished.
The mum’s a sweet old girl, one of them Pauline Fowler type of a lady. Probably a bit of a looker in her day to be fair.
The interesting thing here is that neither of ‘em have ginger hair. This is a bit disturbing when you think that both Fraser and Clive are carrot tops. What is fucking even more remarkable is the pictures on the wall at their house. The evidence is there for all to see. A big old family portrait dominates one wall of their living room. There’s about 17 people in the picture and guess what … there’s only 3 ginger people amongst them. There’s Fraser … Clive of course… and … dad’s brother … Uncle Dave. I mean this jolly old ginger-nut makes Patsie Palmer look blonde. I once said to Fraser, for a laugh, here Fraze, how come you look the spitting image of your uncle Dave?
“I don’t.” He said.
“You fucking do mate, take it from me,” I said back.
I remember the conversation well because we were down the grapes at the time and Fraser went off home with the hump. They can’t take a fucking joke my mates. None of em.
It was obvious to me straight away that Clive was here on a freeman’s. Him and Fraser couldn’t stand the fucking sight of each other so you knew he wasn’t here out of brotherly love. He was here for the booze and the duty free. And it didn’t take a breath test to see that he was already 4 sheets to the fucking wind.
Fraser’s dad Roger is a small gnome headed bloke who’s always got a fucking tale to tell. He’s had more adventures than Baron Munchausen that cunt. Anything you’ve done you can guarantee that he’s done it and done it a lot more times than you have. I mean the famous people he’s met would put Michael Parkinson to shame. According to Roger he was actually the first person on the scene when Douglas Bader crashed his plane. A remarkable feat considering he was still 2 years short of being born at the time. Also, he loves the fact that he’s the only one alive who knows where Lord Lucan is due to the fact that he was privy, via a cross line, to a conversation the old etonian had on the phone with someone a few days before he vanished.
The mum’s a sweet old girl, one of them Pauline Fowler type of a lady. Probably a bit of a looker in her day to be fair.
The interesting thing here is that neither of ‘em have ginger hair. This is a bit disturbing when you think that both Fraser and Clive are carrot tops. What is fucking even more remarkable is the pictures on the wall at their house. The evidence is there for all to see. A big old family portrait dominates one wall of their living room. There’s about 17 people in the picture and guess what … there’s only 3 ginger people amongst them. There’s Fraser … Clive of course… and … dad’s brother … Uncle Dave. I mean this jolly old ginger-nut makes Patsie Palmer look blonde. I once said to Fraser, for a laugh, here Fraze, how come you look the spitting image of your uncle Dave?
“I don’t.” He said.
“You fucking do mate, take it from me,” I said back.
I remember the conversation well because we were down the grapes at the time and Fraser went off home with the hump. They can’t take a fucking joke my mates. None of em.
posted by Johnny Splodge at 1:11:00 pm
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