Tuesday, August 26, 2008

carry on frome

My mate used to do a clinic where they assessed people with extra digits. Lop off the extra ones etc. She always said a fair proportion of them were Fromeys.
Not surprised really. Frome the land of those not posh enough for Bath and not chav enough for Warminster.
Thursday we had to collect said step child from his dear Mother. She had offered rather generously to drop him half way. I'm a known cynic but I fear her generosity didn't come from wanting to help us with our car situation (which I shall enlighten you with in a sec) but that she wanted us to have him Friday as she was busy and the fear was we wouldn't play ball.
We arrived dead on 7.45pm and sat watching the skateboarders and teenage kids messing around in the woods. By 8.15pm I was a little pissed off at the no show and Steve managed to get hold of someone who said they were in a different car park. Fecking typical! So we whizzed over there to find they had gone back to Frome.
So we set off in pursuit to Frome. Meanwhile the person we'd spoken to had got hold of them and they had tuned around and driven back to the original car park.
Scream very loudly! Completely useless.
We finally got them at 9pm at their house. They said Steve had told them the wrong car park. He didn't, I heard him.
Fromeys? Must be the water.

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