It's been a tough week for me on the scratchcards. Twelve quid I'm out with not a single penny return to show for it. I'm not too concerned yet, I've just got to be patient and study the form a bit more. Enacting my next ingenious plan I went into the local library to see I could acquire a tome on Astrology and Divination.
Way I figure it is if I can crack numerology and future prediction and ascertain from the positions of the stars in the heavens a set of numbers pertinent and sacred for that day then translate those numbers into an hour and minute of the clock and a grid reference then I should be able to deduce the exact geographical location and window of opportunity to pick up a winner and cash out. Easy, but not so, well it never is.
I call into the library, being phase one of the caper when an alarm bell rings and a wee old lady from behind the counter comes around and asks me to leave. For once unjustly I must say since I was stone cold sober this time. Anyway she remembers the last time I was in there and claims I defaced some books, some collections of Renaissance Art nude studies.
Defaced! Defaced!? Look I pointed out to her If them artist boys were to be alive today and doing those paintings out again they would definitely give those women bigger tits. I was helping them out, I mean Michelangelo and his mates are all dead can't keep making all the changes they'd want to. So I just got my biro out and did them justice.
But she's no art lover and then quite erroneously claims that the pages were left all 'sticky.' The cheek of the woman. I may well have had a cold the day in question, granted. But to take advantage of my infirmity to level crude, unfounded, scurrilous, nasty, downright lying, allegations of acts of self pollution and sexual depravity in a local library reading room I simply will not stand for.
She then says that we can call the police in on the matter and take the samples down the lab to find out exactly what went on the day in question. I mean I ask you, C.S.I Cornwall. I refuse to play any part in wasting police time and money on such a pointless experiment to prove my innocence. Just between you and me now, I've always amazed how willing the police are to waste time and money anywhere where I'm concerned.
I won't tell you my full legal affairs for reasons of pending investigations and decent taste but I've got a few previous convictions that I'm not proud of. This has lead to an unjust culture of prejudice from the boys in blue. The bastards.
So all this considered I beat a hasty yet dignified retreat to spare this old lady the humiliation of a police enquiry. But as soon as I get outside I realise I've not managed to take any books on lunar and astral divination. Another failure in the pursuit of scratchcard glory. Funds are running thin but I can bankroll another few days of bets.
Til next time folks,