Posh Boy

Last week’s contribution to Hijacked Amygdala can be read here.

You asked me once why we “would never work out.”

Well, for starters, we come from different worlds.

(Don’t even bother trying to argue this one, Posh Boy).

Do you remember the time I told you that I wanted to name my dog Hendrix (as in Jimi) and you thought I meant Hendrick’s (as in fancy gin)?

Your friends are lawyers, tailors and traders.

My friends are tradesmen, dealers and murderers.

You take the piss out of me because I’ve never been in a helicopter or ever been skiing

and I take the piss out of you because when I took you on the Tube for the first time,

you asked where the STOP bell was.

You laugh at me because I don’t pronounce my T’s (especially when I say ‘bottle’ and ‘etiquette’)

and I laugh at you when…

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