These are light coffee skits
SMOKES N GLUE
+++The dog stole my smokes ‘n’ glue sir, and now what must I do without my smokes ‘n’ glue?
The poison in your teeth you must spit: spit-spit-spit is what, until the pressing is spent; I mean, look what I’m feeling in this some rumble that comes from the old miners up on the hills digging for my gold.
Digging for your gold sir?
Yes, they’re always digging for my gold; like the blind bandit in some movie where everyone died long ago and floated away in every direction.
A Barabbas love trap sir?
Yes indeed, a Barabbas love trap; how astute of you.
Thank you sir; I was there and could not smoke enough so I stood outside in the night that rained miserable at me so that I could hardly stand in the heavy weight of the wind that came to sigh so empty; when, suddenly, the dawn was layered with a big, beat up buddy song from a motorbike like a Buddhist fart, an undefined edge in the excitement of it all, until I ran away and left the dog with my cigarettes.
So you didn’t care for it?
It was a very smoky place sir.
And how do you feel now?
I feel so sad sir.
Excellent, let’s retire to the bar then and drown our sorrows.
But I have to go see the crack-a-back man sir.
Nonsense Jimmy, see him tomorrow, it’s time for us to have a drink or two.
How long is it until tomorrow sir?+++
Is this the aftermath of our lives Holmes?
I’m afraid it is Watson.
It’s me: Number 5.
What do you want?
I want to speak to Holmes.
Hold the line and I’ll see if he is in.
It’s Number 5 on the telephone.
Number 5 you say?
Yes, that’s what she said.
What does she want?
She didn’t say.
Be so kind and ask her what she wants, will you Watson?
Yes Holmes, I surely will.
Hello, are you still there?
Yes, I’m still here.
Holmes said: what do you want?
Ask him, how high is the moon tonight?
She says, how high is the moon tonight?
Tell her, the moon’s behind the clouds.
Holmes said the moon is behind the clouds.
Can I speak to him?
She wants to speak to you.
Holmes said: what do you want to talk about?
Never mind; just tell him: I can wait.
LIFE OF A MASTERPIECE
+++It’s good that you are doing well. I like that, so I will send you my regards on the back of this masterpiece under the full moon of it all
Wherever my lost love is now I think of her as a leaf in the wind, and me as a rock she left behind. I will move soon: the rock has become a stone.
This is a passage, a fallen leaf in the stream where the grasshopper speaks of pain.
But now the clouds come over and hide the moon so that I can’t see it anywhere, no matter how hard I look, I don’t see it anymore.”
“It is OK sir, really it is.”
“Shall I scream or hide Jimmy; or perhaps dance in the wind. You know, 13 minutes is enough to die a broken death alone. More wine here, the cup is empty and I’m the space of a moment to escape.”
“Stand alone, or fall empty, sir?”
“I know the temperature of this is pressing and I am sorry the blessings are such bad eyes, but turn up eternity for here comes a new day.”
“What can you possibly ask me now that the end of the world is here?”
“Can I have a spanner sir?”
“What kind of spanner?”
“A spanner for the machine sir.”
“Of course you can Jimmy, of course you can.”
I’m thinking of getting a boat you know.
A boat, sir?
Yes, I want to go sailing.
If you get a boat, sir, then you’d better call me George.
And you can call me captain.
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