Lucky White Heather – my arse.

I was once asked by a withered old thieving hag – sorry, I mean  ‘gypsy’ – if I wanted to buy some lucky white heather from her. She held a sprig of equally withered foliage out to me and…. well, It went something like this:

Hag:“Lucky White Heather?”

Me: “That’s sea lavender you dubious hag. It’s not heather & it’s not lucky, even if it were heather…”

Hag: “It IS lucky white heather!”

Me: “Lucky? You live in a cardboard box you hag. You have bunches of the stuff & you live in a box… “

Hag: “Thinner….”

Me: “Oh piss off.”

Loveable old gypsy woman yesterday.



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