“Murrays in with a shot, touch wood”, that’s always driven me mad, touch wood! Superstitious bollocks.
“Make me a brew love, and put the sugar in first for luck”, Jesus! She’s always complaining that we have such lousy luck because I didn’t carry her over the threshold. I don’t know what she expected, I’m no Geoff Capes.
“They’re closing the roof! Nip out and get me some biscuits love” Seriously?! It’s throwing it down and she wants biscuits, she’s the one that needs the exercise. Still, I could do with the peace and quiet.
Damn, this umbrella’s always sticking. “Don’t open that in here it’s really bad luck”, could she give it a rest?!
“Oh my, your eye!” I don’t hear much more, just a throbbing in my head and a vague popping sound before I pass out. At least I’ll get some rest now, God I hate that bitch.