A Short Jog

My light jog across the waste ground led yet again to another mishap. My foot caught a small rock and my knees buckled and for a few short seconds much to the amusement of the Spanish family walking behind me I gave an impression of someone attempting a late entry into the ministry of funny walks as I was still sort of jogging but in an almost crouching position, but this ended when my ankle turned over like a tranny on his first outing with heels that he can’t control. The forward roll that followed was one of my better ones and I think I have indeed nailed this movement now and almost feel like repeating it randomly in front of people. Then standing straight up and pretending to spot a plant that needed to be examined (This never fools anyone and they know you are soaked in embarrassment) it’s a bit like a cat that slips of a table and continues to clean itself while pretending that is what it meant to do. With one last look at the plant I jogged away lifting my knees slightly higher than necessary in a bid to not allow it to happen again in front of the Spanish family who had already had their quota of entertainment for the day. The parrots mocked me from their tree.

Andy (no pride left) Beveridge

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