I've been try to keep my cool over this.
The Nice Council Man With The Drainrods was asking me the other week if I'd seen a particular tramp going around the area lately.
Yes. I had. "He's nae lookin' well." "He's aye drinkin Cider" "Far does he bide?" The conversation went on. Poor Council Man couldn't sleep one night because of the singing beneath his window!
I sympathised and thought nothing more of Mr Tramp.
But then just the other day I was coming out of the block of flats when I heard a TINKLING noise! No it wasn't Evelyn Glennie doing a star turn on a glockenspiel in the middle of the street. No, it wasn't a Grey Toon Fairy coming back from the pub after a hard day's wish granting.
I thought to myself "My God. Has that leaky overflow still not been fixed!?" But then I looked up the street where Mr Tramp was slumped against the tenements creating a rather turbulent flow of "spent cider" down our fine pavingstones. Tinkling explained.
Filthy bastard had the biggest grin on his face you ever did see. Not sure if he was just impressed with himself or leering at me.
Bloody Pissing Tramp.