Here One is, packing, yet again, to be shuffled off to Brixham whilst the underground lair is transformed into an open sewer. (sorry if you’re having your wheaty-bangs, dear reader.)
I DON’T WANT TO GO
I want to stay here and sulk, not go down there and have to paint me arse off in order to scape a meagre and lonely living. (now yer crying into yer cereal, int yer?)
Any way, while we’re on the subject – who reads this constant, never ending whinge? Are you young, slim, successful, loved and cherished, and merely taking a self satisfied peek into the groundhog day, car crash that is the lot of Lovely One? Or are you an even more pathetic lump than Moi and long to emulate me doings?
Who knows? All One does know is that One has the decency to simply whinge and whine into me blog rather than burden living and breathing beings with me misery.
TAKE NOTE ALL YOU ODDITIES THAT COME IN THE OLD FISH SHOP GALLERY AND BORE THE TITS OFF ME WITH YER MISERABLE LIFE STORIES
But – it has to be said – Lovely One has deffo missed the boat in the ‘lifetime companion’ stakes. Who would want a jaded old, wobbly thighed, wine sodden, loose toothed, super-floo-us hair covered (well one I found on me face), big old dollop of gloom, who, it has to be said, has some unpleasant habits normally associated with uncouth young gentleman.
Hmm- not doing a very good sales pitch here, methinks.
IF ONLY I COULD GET A CAT
Then I could slowly morph into one of those sad old bats whose flat smells of cat pee and whiskers.
But no, am stuck with a hound and it’s master. All living separate lives in a small confined space.
AND LET ME TELL YOU – YOU DON’T KNOW TRUE LONLINESS UNTIL YOU LIVE ALONGSIDE SOMEONE WHO DOESN’T LIKE YOU!
Ho hum – double the dose today I think!!