The situation is that my "friend" Alice has been promising to send a care package from NZ for aaaaagggeeeees now, and she seems finally to have found time to make good on it. Or so I thought, until she decided to send mine and Rob's to my beleaguered colleague in Cambridge...
Alice:
"OK boys. I decided to send you a joint package. You will have to share.
I sent it to Rob because I thought his sharing skills might be slightly more developed than Barry's although I am not sure. So Rob, SHARE!
And Barry, plan to be in the vicinity of Rob in the next 4-10 days...."
Rob:
"Good choice!! I'm definitely more reliable than barry (or "Andrew" as they call him over here). I'm moving house this weekend because i've been robbed twice and i hate my neighbours. I hate them because they keep robbing me.
Hey baz, you could come and help me move!! Yeah! Great idea! I'll provide the brains, you provide the braun, and i'll provide the beer - that means i'm providing twice as much as you, but i'll just take the extra out of the alleged care package."
The Magnificent B-Lord:
"
But if I provide the Braun (a make of electric shaver...), in the immortal words of Midnight Oil, "Who's gonna shave me? Who's gonna shaaay-ayyyve meeeeee!!??" Perhaps if I provide the brawn - and a Glock to keep that filthy neighbour of yours at bay - we'll be more evenly placed for negotiations.
ALICE - it's a criminally poor idea to send the care package to Rob. Cambridge is as a war-torn Mozambique-y Mogadishu style third world starving nation. Crime is rampant - and so are the lions - but more importantly is the fact that Rob's tenement estate is the epicentre of all the world's evil and amorality - as evidenced by the theft of all things of value that Rob possessed (ie, laptop and wallet), as well as his very presence. Send the package to me. I've only had a couple of packages from home go missing in the mail since I got here, but that was at Xmas when all the light-fingered little gits at Royal Mail were on a self-imposed weed-embargo in order to concentrate on obtaining their "Xmas Bonuses". But now, they're much more likely to be back dozing in corners, sleeping off the richness of their yuletide sprees and giving thanks to the British Government for preserving their little slice of welfare heaven against all odds and notions of efficiency.
Besides, Rob is moving soon, so your package will arrive just in time to provide a delightful little "Thank you" present for his ... resourceful ... slum co-habitor. AND - it gives Rob a nice excuse to come to the City of Dark Angels (or, "Filthy Sooty Dysentric Pigeons"), for another wee drinking session with his favourite cronies. Do the right thing Alice. Make your own decision. Do the right thing. Not for me. Not for Rob. But mostly, for me. Actually, completely and utterly singularly positively for me. And under NO circumstances give the package to Cynthia to bring back upon her return, as any chocolate will live in abject fear for the duration of the ordeal...(kisses Snyth!)
So sayeth The B."
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