The Life of Brian’s Statue: Beside the Seaside
I tell y’what, when I see all these people, Mums and Dads and their young uns running around enjoying the summer and having a paddle on the beach in Market Square, I feel like jumping down off me plinth, kicking off me trainers, rolling me trouser legs up and joining ‘em!
Y’know, it can get bloody hot stood up here all the time, now and again I feel like I could murder an ice-cream. I’m probably a bit too old to pull on a pair of speedos and really mess about in the water, but a paddle would really do me good. I’ve always loved a beach holiday, apart from when I was down in Brighton with Pete. Too many bloody pebbles for my liking! In places like that they always think they have to be different don’t they? There’s nowt wrong with a nice bit of good old fashioned sand! Y’can build castles with it, Y’can bury someone up to their neck – there’s quite a few buggers I’d like to do that to!
Y’can write y’name in it, and it’s lovely and soft to walk on – not like those bloody pebbles! Y’need a pair of big boots when yer on the beach in Brighton.
Pete seemed to think it was all right though. Mind you, I don’t remember ever seeing him get out of his deckchair and walk across those pebbles! Pete just liked to soak up the sun, or so he said. I reckon that was just an excuse – he could fall asleep anywhere, that bloke! He stayed down there for quite a while after I’d taken the Leeds job.
Now then, that job was no holiday. It was more like a bad day at Butlins!