I can’t believe another whole week has skipped by and I didn’t even get a chance to do the dishes! At this rate there will be no Mr Bond waiting for me at the end of the rainbow because I’ll be looking more like Oldfinger than Pussygalore!Unfortunately the quest for a better life / job / legs / and or neverending packet of Tim Tams was once again put on hold for the usual life / boring job / aching legs / and a spiralling Arnott’s induced debt.
And in the middle of all this global credit squeeze, here I am just wanting a peck and a hug. It should be made purrrfectly clear that my rates are reasonable, GST is included, and if things were to get a bit frisky, then I’m fully prepared with three varieties of condoms. The only problem I can foresee is with the latex having disintegrated from being ten years beyond its expiry date, although to be honest, its getting to the stage where I wouldn’t mind being in a position where I was subjected to a Sexually Transmitted Debt. This magical other could have half of the nothing I have. Half of my quarter lived life. Half of my twentieth of a house deposit. And half of my page one of the three hundred page to do list.
But to be fair, he could have both halves of the dishes.
Ms fabulously-soapy-with-tepid-dishwater M.
