Look at you. I don’t need you.
You tell me to ‘keep you for when I need you’ but I’ve got news for you buddy, there will never come a time when I will need you.
I don’t need a Roman. I don’t think I’ve ever asked anyone for a Roman. It’s not as if I’ve been walking down the street in town and thought to myself, “ooo, you know what I could do with right now? A bit of Roman, yeah.” I’m not stuck at work trying to solve a problem and cursing the absence of a centurion to help me through a difficult time. You don’t find me arms aloft, shouting to the heavens, wishing a Roman would swoop along to sort out my bad diet and poor exercise regime.
You look confused and out of breath. Are you surrounding that house so you can lay siege to it or is this your home? It doesn’t look very Roman if you ask me. If you’re lurking about on someone else’s property they’re going to call the police. You look as though you’re taking a piss in their garden and hoping that nobody notices you. That’s not your house, is it, Roman? You wouldn’t have that many windows. You would freak if you saw double glazing or that burglar alarm started going off. Your primitive mind couldn’t cope with our twenty-first century ideas. Hell, I can’t cope with our twenty-first century ideas.
Tell you what, if I’m planning to try and conquer most of the known world I will drop you a line and ask for some assistance. Until then, I don’t need you.
Go away, shoo!
6 comments on “I don’t need you”
When the day comes that you’re picked for the office chariot racing team, and you need to learn how to race a chariot by the following weekend, you’re going to regret not keeping the Roman Catalogue for when you needed it.
I toyed with this dilemma for a while and decided it was unlikely that would ever happen because Linda is a much better chariot racer and was guaranteed to get top billing.
Fair enough. In that case, cheg it in the bin. We could all do with a bit less Camp Roman Energy in our lives.
Kev positively thrives on it though. He can’t get through the day without a cup of Camp Roman Energy.
Is that some new instant coffee drink from the people who brought you Camp Coffee?
It’s those tea leaves he keeps drinking. He bought a few hundred pound minutes of it before Christmas and is going through it like the clappers. Slow down, Kev!