I seem to have ended up here by complete accident having recently recovered from six months in hospital after being run over by a number 349 bus - well, that's not quite technically correct. It all started after I met an ageing Peruvian llama herder on holiday in the Himalayas. He had a talent for runic sooth-saying and offered to tell me my future; as I had just worn out my last pair of walking socks and had no other pressing engagements I reluctantly agreed. I quickly dispensed of my socks and sat down with the Peruvian gentleman. He started to shake a leather bag, which rattled ominously. All of a sudden he held the bag upside-down and emptied the contents onto the floor in front him - out dropped a pair of false teeth, a Duran Duran fan club membership card, three paperclips (one slightly misshapen) and an empty tube of Smarties. "I'm very sorry, wrong bag" he mumbled raucously. I stuck my fingers down my throat to induce intestinal spasms in the hope that it would stop my imminent laughter. He turned and fumbled around in a hemp sack and took another, identical, bag from it. He looked up at me and smiled, his immaculate yellow and green teeth beaming gamma particles at me. He started the bag-shaking routine again, but thankfully this time a few small, odd bits of coin like pieces of mystical wood fell out onto the floor. He proceeded to separate the ones lying face up from the others and started sorting them. I tried asking what he was doing but he smiled at me again leaving me convinced that asking second time would be life-threatening.
"Very good" he said.
"What is?" I asked.
He looked up at me, but noticed the look of worry on my face. I was had hoped the runes had held something deadly and extremely painful in store in the vain hope that he wouldn't smile at me again.
"You will have many children, and your wives will never be unfaithful." he started to grin.
"Right... does that mean that I'm unfaithful and I get divorced a few times, or perhaps I become a Muslim?"
"What?" he asked quizically.
"Nothing." I replied.
"Ok, now you pay me - sink my plate with mushrooms."
"I don't think I have any. Would money be ok."
"Is ok."
"Good."
I reached into my bag where I had secreted a rolled-up sock containing all my money. No sock.
"Oh b****r. Wait here, I'll be right back.."
"You think I am a bloody taxi-driver?"
I ran outside to where I'd thrown the socks away. A goat stood farting happily away with a distinct grin on it's face.
"You b*****d".

I went back inside; the Peruvian was already standing looking decidedly unhappy, as if he just found out one of his llamas had forgotten it's passport and had to get a cab home to retrieve it, thus forcing him to miss his flight home.
"Erm, I haven't got any money. Perhaps if you'd like to exchange addresses I could send you some money when I get home."
"If you get home, " he said ominously.
"There's no need to get nasty about it."
"You will be eaten by a large red trunkless, earless elephant on roller skates, doomed to carry it's victims' souls in it's heart for all eternity."

And so I was.

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