Never Write When You’re Drunk

Writing and drinking don’t mix well.

Old King Cole was a merry old soul when I caught up with him after an afternoon in a cheap motel with Little Bo Peep minus her sheep. Although he had to rush back to his counting house quite quickly, he did have time to answer a few of my questions. Yes, he was indeed the king in ‘Sing a Song of Sixpence, but he preferred that it be kept quiet. I pressed him about Jenny Wren but he refused to comment and then angrily stormed off.

It was a pity for him that he didn’t notice the commotion going on outside as when he left, in a huff, he walked straight into a slippery mess left by one Humpty Dumpty, and eggy sort of fellow, who had seemingly committed suicide by falling off a tall wall. Cole slipped and landed on his back in a sticky puddle of albumen and it took the help of some old woman called Hubbard to get him half way out.

Inspector Jack Sprat was sent to investigate but failed to see the ‘yolk’ as people laughed until their Ding Dong’s Belled and when Little Bo Peep heard the ruckus, she ran out of the nearby motel yielding her crook in a menacing fashion. Sprat arrested her immediately and charged her with ‘Riding a Cock Horse’ without a permit.

A Crooked Man happened by, and Sprat arrested him as well simply for being crooked. Luckily the man’s Crooked Cat was too quick and went scampering off To Visit The Queen. Friends in high places it seemed. I stood at the window aghast as some guy casually walked past carrying his wife in a pumpkin. I asked the very friendly goose, who was watching the scene with me if she has seen such a sight. ‘Oh, that’s Peter, Peter. He’s like that,’ said she.

Finally, my time was up as I could hear the sound of  Hickory, Dickory Dock and of mouse feet running upwards. Time to go back to my sofa and my empty glass of red wine. Then wait for the next time I hear the inviting call of Little Boy Blue’s horn and the chance to interview another famous associate of Mother Goose.

Never Write When You’re Drunk

13 thoughts on “Never Write When You’re Drunk

    • 14/08/2011 at 4:16 pm
      Permalink

      I’ll need to sell more books to afford the wine Jennifer! lol

  • 14/08/2011 at 4:01 pm
    Permalink

    Hic Mine’s a pint. Now where did me quill pen go… :D

  • 14/08/2011 at 9:32 pm
    Permalink

    Boy did this put a new spin on the nursery rhymes I remember. Maybe I need to try mixing red wine and goose.

    Good post…I’m laughing. :D
    ~cath
    Twitter me @jonesbabie

  • 14/08/2011 at 9:36 pm
    Permalink

    Red wine helps me regress Cath! lol Taking up a foetal position as we drink… er I mean speak!

  • 20/08/2011 at 12:05 am
    Permalink

    Hah! This is brill. :D Apart from one or two typos but heck, man, you were drunk. I definitely second the call for more writing of this nature! :P

  • 20/08/2011 at 8:59 am
    Permalink

    Thanks Lex. Typos? Dear me, looks like I should run a sober eye over it :)

  • 30/08/2011 at 4:12 am
    Permalink

    This would’ve been awesome as a live reading. Would have added an extra level of entertainment.
    Hey, I thought all writers made their own wine in five gallon jugs in their basements.
    No? Huh.

  • 02/09/2011 at 3:55 pm
    Permalink

    Very clever however if I were you no matter how inviting, I would stay away from that under-aged blue kid’s horn . . . that kind of thing is even frowned upon in PRISON! Great post! W.C.C.

  • 13/11/2017 at 8:49 am
    Permalink

    Why not credit the icon artist of that painting, Maxfield Parrish

Comments are closed.