Addictive tendencies and the art of not avoiding dog piss

I.
He was too fucked up to be the Best man
and just to prove her right,
he was late as an usher.
 
His head digested council estate chloroform's
hands trapped in the till, credit cards turned over in court,
slept on a bar stool, everyone's fool.
 
He wore a banana yellow suit to the after church bit,
borrowed a tenner then split.
 
Bought us an 1980's Schwarts spice rack  
kept in the cupboard, she told him it was tat.
In the 90's the monkey on his back
pointed out it was a fucking herb rack.
 
II.
I hated Sundays
nothing to do, shite all on tele
had to stay in and tidy
until we'd had dinner.
 
On the odd occasion we had lamb
Mam always sent me out  
to pick the mint for the sauce.  
My prick of a brother followed up with
"I order you to go and fetch mint
make sure you get the high leaves".
 
I didn't eat mint sauce,
but my brother did.