Waterstones a shop where you can purchase books. Well not for me I find books to be very pointless as pointless as a toilet with no flush, so the shit piles. I also am very allergic so if I stay in a book shop to long I may die.

Anyway my story begins when myself, Rawson and Chris were in town on one of our many shopping sprees. As usual I had lots of cash, Rawson had his bank card and Chris was penniless apart from some vouchers he had got for Christmas. It turns out some strange Granny of Chris’s had given him a 10 pound voucher to the dreaded Waterstones.

Me and Rawson knew of this shop because we had been taken on many a family outing there. Chris the most naive of use all dragged us in. We stood in ore and stared at the many books of crap. After a few minutes we were broken from this link with the books by Toni-Lee (neighbourhood ugly person who thinks she's beautiful) and her fellow lesbian Amy Scopes (very loud for such a small person) there was a little hello and a “are you coming to Zagni’s new year party”, replies from us of “maybe” a swift goodbye and some minor abuse thrown in their direction afterwards “Zagni’s party, ha, I would rather give that buskers dog a blow job.”

So we were in the books shop, I ordered we keep our wits about us because there are worse things than librarians that lurk in the darker areas of book shops. Then I remembered I had once been in the shop on a family outing and I stumbled across the forsaken and mythical Erotica section. I remembered browsing through playboy annuals and “the guide to anal”. This was it, I told my friends and they shook their heads in disbelief. We set out on our quest.

It was a hard journey we travelled through fiction, history, and entered the children's section. We saw the horror of poor innocent children being pulled by their mothers who were cursing “you will read”. For a moment we considered liberating the children but we did not have the time my condition was deteriorating.

We entered the biographies section, I said that we were getting closer. Then I spotted it “Geoffrey Archer, by his mistress”. I knew this was my chance to read up on this great pillar of society but we had to travel on.

We turned a corner and there it was our reward for travelling this far but it was to late for me the books had got to me and I had fainted and was lying on the floor. Rawson and Chris drawn by my cries of pane ran to the erotica section and started reading. I was desperate now, I grabbed from a nearby shelf “Alan Titmarsh’s guide to Charlie’s bosoms”. It hit Chris right in the face in the confusion he stumbled over to the counted without realising, bought the book and got me out of the shop.

We never did see Rawson again though, the word is they threw him out at closing time and he waited there all night and went straight back in the next morning. I hear they let him stay there now, he lives in a basket and they feed him carrots, they call him “boy”.

Jameson
@boys basket

Article Written by Jameson
jugsy_the_bugsy@hotmail.com