We are going by hook or by crook. Most likely by crook. After a particularly boring rainy and overcast day we decided to do ‘something’. You can’t just forever dwell on our Guvernment to try and reign in the deficit by pinching the pockets of derelict pensioners laying about knee deep in ice and loo-lolling around on meth and crystals. Leave the rich alone! They are really struggling, battling on bravely and oh so frugally.
So, if it gets a bit quiet around here it doesn’t mean we have carked it or indeed are at yet another funeral. We will be in Byron Bay. Accommodation has been booked including for Milo the Jack Russell. Into the local kennel with his favourite cushion and millions of other dogs to keep him company. Let’s hope he will contain himself and not rub up someone’s leg, dog or men. He’s been having some strange hormonal twinges lately, despite or because of castration.
It is odd, getting old! I had some surprising IT spams lately including an invitation to visit ‘Lola’s den’. I always thought Lola was a name for a man’s best friend, man,cat or mice. If you get it in your inbox; don’t be tempted! It turned out to be an intimate insight, including close up photos of genitalia. It is mind boggling how the internet infiltrates even those with a long standing and upright marriage. It is done through something called tracing ‘cookies’. Where does the cookie come from?
Yet, what was it that drove us all, not that long ago, into each others arms if not between legs as well? Is that what has driven me all those years? Looking at it in the declining years, all so purple, swollen and engorged. Surely, there is so much more to sex than labia and testicles. (like walnuts in a sock according to some)
I had a friend over who is an expert in computers. We created a back-up on a hard-drive and expunged all the Lola Dens and more. No more purple cookies.
Suitcases are packed for leaving this Sat. C U L8r.