So sorry I shamefully neglected you all these weeks. What can I say? Well, life got in the way. Apart from meeting lovely gents I got caught up with a number of design projects in which I immersed myself fully. But I am still around and still delightfully amoral with a laughter just the right side of dirty…
Alright technically mid morning to early lunch – had an extra lie in. Call from a guy who sounds a little constipated but I am not quite fully awake to differentiate finer acoustic details. He tells me that he has seen and liked my profile for which I thank him graciously. He then tells me that he woke up horny – for a moment I held my breath lest this would lead him to commence a Blues number. No he continues talking and asked my availability. I quote him my earliest appointment time some 4 hours in the future based on a careful algorithm that considers overall state of moi, grogginess, extra grooming, travel and generally switching from auto pilot. He tells me having seen my site I was worth waiting for. I asked if he wanted to make the booking but instead he asks if I mind seeing big guys. I reply in the affirmative and reassure him that since I am no skinny minny myself I don’t have any issues with weight. But he already continues to tell me that ’Big girls like big guys and that he tends to get on with them’ I presume he means big girls but my mind is not completely in focus. His breathing is a little laboured. I am thinking poor guy and am contemplating to recommend extra fibre in his diet. He then asked if I minded 10 inches. I then realise he is not constipated at all. I finish the call abruptly as I hate those kinds of conversations and because my body demands ney screams for a shot of caffeine. Of course I mind ten inches! What is wrong with some people? Why can’t they be sensible and at least quote in centimetres!
So far the Christmas spirit has not managed to sneakily creep up behind me and grab me. I flounce past shop decorations with a nonchalant shrug. I have no tree (well at least not a shopped down especially dedicated Yuletide variety anyhow) and there is no tinsel in sight. I have bought no cards and do not intend to either. Usually, there is someone who you hardly know who attempts to shame you into some Christmas card showdown by faux merrily handing you a card. Many people then get caught up into a last minute dash to buy a 50 card bumper pack to hastily repay the favour. I have no intention of being shamed into some mass Rain forest deforestation program for the sake of some annoying Hallmark ritual. Just now a package landed with a thump inside my door. On closer inspection it contains a selection of 25 different hand-painted Christmas cards, together with a slip for entering your credit card details and donation pack. In true Scrooge mode, I am thinking to myself, Honey why should I donate my lustily earned money to some outfit who squanders it on expensively painted cards, postage and a general paper mountain instead using all the money directly to sponsor their cause. I also received a few sample cards by another charity that supports harmless artists – no wait – I read that wrong it meant ‘armless’. Apparently those cards have been painted with their feet. I recoil somewhat and hastily drop those cards but then read on that no these are just printed versions of it. Anyway, I suppose I can always hand out those cards foisted on me if I am trapped into some kind card standoff. But I did get one electronic festive message so that made me snigger – it reads ‘Have a Dreary Christmas and Crappy New Year’. A kindred spirit!
Aaaaw sweet dulcet sounds of my youth…. Thanks to a wonderful Maiden from the far far away country of Tartan and wild roaming Hagis, I spent this evening bobbing away to some great tunes! Classic vintage from 1978 – Jilted John! All together now ‘Gordon is a moron….’ lol And who remembers The Piranhas and ‘Virginity’? Anyway, anymore classic tunes from a golden era of music?
Hahahaha – got you! Now, now calm down, I have not added another string to my bow nor do I offer more specialised services. I have joined the new revamped gym near me and got myself a membership at the leisure centre. Today I participated in Aqua Fitness which is a posh term for doing exercises in the water. This is great as you can work out for an hour but the flotation effect and mitigation of gravity allows you to do a variety of aerobic workout without any stress on your joints. I felt light and imagined myself as some lithe nymph frolicking in the water in some Fifties inspired polka dot swimming costume. However, as I looked up and saw a reflection in the ceiling, my illusions were somewhat shattered. I glimpsed a dotted creature among all the other water hippos stomping up and down thus creating the equivalent of an indoor Tsunami. In fact, the massive tidal waves created by the collective underwater marching were in danger of catapulting some poor guy out of the water at the other end of the pool….