John Button didn’t notice all the people wearing pink in his honour at Silverstone because he was busy watching the tennis.
Said the now-permanently-70-year-old-or-however-it-works bloke via a hastily arranged seance, “sorry: I thought it was next weekend.”
One less cunt to hang out with, at least
“Plus Our Lord converted rather a lot of water into wine the other week and in helping him clear it I got a bit forgetful.”
“These things happen when you get to my age. And then die,” he added via a muttering woman in a floral headscarf.
The, “Pink for Papa” tribute was intended as a fitting send-off to the father of 4 as scores of fans donned garments the same hue as the once ubiquitous “Papa Smurf” at least up until he’d got a full glass of Rioja down it somewhere around 11AM or – at the night races – 12.
“It’s a shame I missed it but we get pretty good reception up here and I’ve Sky Plussed it – so long as nobody records bloody Songs of Praise over it again,” a voice remarkably like a middle aged shire counties woman chuckled.
“Plus to be fair: Jenson is usually shit and this went to 5 sets so….what pink shirts?” he spelt in a series of Scrabble tiles to a curtain rustling near a flickering table lamp – admittedly where there’s a stiff draught and a known wiring problem.