The night time prowling has begun again.
Lest the constant floor walking be in vain, One trawled the TV for something educational to pass the time.
Alighting upon ‘Desperate Housewives’ One inadvertently uncovered the answer to all One’s current woes.
Marry a lifer on death row!
Why didn’t One think of it before! The definitive solution!
Lots of lovely long letters to spend the sleepless nights reading and NEVER EVER the merest possibility of the exchange of body fluids.
‘Tis true One would like nothing more than to embark upon a love affair of mammoth proportions but, let’s face it, One is no longer the luscious love goddess of afore.
‘Slasher’ or ‘Meat-head’ could pour out his tortured soul to One on a daily basis. One could appear on daytime TV to explain the inevitability of the long distance love and One need never even disturb an under garment.
The ultimate solution!
However, should One be persuaded otherwise, let One offer a little preliminary advice…
‘You are a fat girl, it’s true, but I’d boff you anyway,’ is not a chat up line that will result in Twinkle access!