Farty's Fortunes

Friday, 13 February 2009

One Man's Poison

Picture the scene: a penthouse flat in the classier part of the city. Fashionable wall hangings adorn the, er, walls. Paisley-patterned cushions and pastel-coloured bean bags are strewn across the floor with gay abandon. A gaggle of twenty-somethings are lolling around, chattering away and swigging expensive lager and fine wine like they're going out of fashion.

One of the sweet young things yawns, stretches and, like a practitioner of legerdemain, produces a large glass cylinder from thin air. Taking a large bottle of spring water, she slowly and carefully fills the device.

"Contributions!" calls our host. Various members of the assembled company start rifling through their pockets and handbags before presenting an assortment of red, green, yellow and black lumps of certain sweet-smelling substances for his inspection. Carefully selecting a little bit of this1, a little bit of that2, he politely thanks his guests and, in an arcane ceremony, briefly passes the materials over a cigarette-lighter before crumbling the soft goodness into the bowl attached to the side of the cylinder. The remaining substances are rewrapped in cling film and returned to their respective glass jars, tins and makeup cases before those too disappear whence they came.

Meanwhile, one young lady is sitting open-mouthed, staring in mounting horror at the scene of untold debauchery unfolding before her. Just as the bong is about to be lit, she leaps to her feet and exclaims: "I'm not staying in this OPIUM DEN for another minute!" She hurriedly picks up her coat and storms out, slamming the door behind her, never to be seen again.

A deathly silence descends on the room as the bong is passed from one debauchee to the next. Finally the host exhales with the observation: "Silly cow, the opium den's next door."

Well, that's how I remember heard it.

1 Green Moroccan
2 Afghani black


Ché l'écossais said...


I turn off NoScript and I get something about wanking in the morning - nothing wrong with that, fair 'nough.

Then I turn off AdBlock and I get NO WANKING but instead some guff about blow.

And ppl think I'm paranoid about the guv'mint farking with us.

Remember Red Leb ? They don't make it anymore, damn Syrians, that was top gear.

Over and out...

waaaay out.

Mr Farty said...

Ché - That'll be my hand-crafted fortune cookie program. Odd though, cos I don't carry ads.

Oh man, Red Leb! Fucking A!

Happy times...

I've Been Mugged said...

Are they illegal immigrants?

Grit said...

do you mean those fragrant lumps of green rock we bought in yemen weren't incense? i'll light one tonight and see if the kids pass out like they did before.

Lesley said...

Drugs! Friends! Happy place!! Mr. Farty is a master at labeling his posts. Posts which always crack me up...with labels that never fail to crack me up either. (Also? I want to go to Grit's house.)

Mr Farty said...

IBM - Half right.

Grit - Mmmmm Rocky. It's funny the things you mistakenly pick up while on holiday, innit?

Lesley - I'm sure Grit would love a hand edumacating the gritlets.