I must admit I never for one single moment thought I would wish for the knock at the door to be from Jehova's witnesses. But there it is, the knock at the door I mean, and here I am, hoping against hope that the persons knocking at the door are standing there holding a copy of Watchtower magazine and offering salvation and God's forgiveness. I could do with a bit of divine absolution right now... or 5 billion euros, that would help matters also.
Knock Knock. There it is again.
You must excuse me I do believe the game is up as the Brits like to say. I think it is Inspector Clouseau coming to arrest me. If he asks me who I am, I will answer Jarvis the Butler and make a dash for it.
Wish me Bonne chance
2 comments:
Mdr, j'y crois trop pas. Des preuves !
Proof? They sprung me 'cause they had no proof. My dear man, I'm the victim here.
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