So, here we stand tea cups at the ready and the thought of fondant fancies at dawn haunting our minds. We have looked into the abyss that is the evening TV schedules of our lives and realised that there will never be enough anchovies now the pizza of all our dreams lies forgotten in some muddy puddle of what is left of our future lives.
Still, having said that, you can’t complain, can you?
After all when all is said and done worse things happen at sea and you have to look on the bright side and… well, you weren’t thinking of going out dressed like that… were you?
Oh.
Still, I suppose it makes all sorts. Speaking of which, have you finished with that liquorice I loaned you when you were talking of re-tiling you bathroom in a style reminiscent of a mid-1960s discotheque, so that you could dance around to the hits of Herman’s Hermits as you towelled yourself off after you bi-annual bath and full re-creosoting.
If not, then I will have no choice but to issue you with this demand for full repayment in the equivalent number of wine gums by the end of the month, if you would be so kind.
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