Some nice people

I went to the pub yesterday. Some people I know socially were there, and we had a nice natter. As it was quiet, the landlady and I played scrabble. Someone asked me to play, so I ran through a few Chopin waltzes and some Schubert, before launching into some lesser-known music-hall songs. The place was completely bereft of cunts. HAPPY DAYS! We did have a laugh afterwards though; when I was being given a lift home, we saw Cunt the First in another establishment. He was stood at the bar, giving the barmaid the hair-dryer treatment. She had a comatose expression and her eyes had glazed over. Meanwhile the Cunt's head was nodding up and down. His eyes were fixed and manic, and his mouth was moving like the clappers. Poor barmaid, but that was a lucky escape for us.
When I got home I finished the cold leftovers of my dinner, which I enjoyed. I went to bed at 1am and slept very badly. I remember turning over a lot, and having difficulty in getting comfortable. I don't know what I had been dreaming about, but I flew out of bed at 5.30am in a state of blind terror. I am starting to pull myself together now, but I do feel tired.
I have my fortnightly visit to the Social Security today. It reminds me of a visit to the workhouse door. "Please Sir, please may I have some more?" I don't like it one bit.
My brother will be behind the bar this evening, and I am looking forward to seeing him. I don't know if I'm becoming psychic, but I'm having a horrible premonition. I anticipate the arrival of Cunt the First. Horrible. I hope I'm wrong.