My head keeps spinnin',
I go to sleep and keep grinnin'
If this is just the beginnin',
my life is gonna be bee-yoo-tee-ful
Dean Martin and Robbie Williams (who doesn’t get on my nerves as much these days)
Any road up, One is chipper in the extreme this very a.m.
‘Why ever is that darling Lovely One?’ One hears you chorus as one, Dear Reader, ‘When your life is such a heap of horse shite?’
Well, dears, it’s like this…
One spent yesterday incarcerated with Boy in his lair. Sans Vile ex Husband who sheared to UP’s for the majority of the day. But not before sharing the news that he has, what he amusingly referred to as ‘a new girlfriend.’
‘If you want to find a suitable partner, a great deal of groundwork has to be done and many an unsuitable bint has to be trawled through on many a website,’ instructed One following the failure to launch of the last love affair.
‘Twould appear that the cove has done just that and unearthed a buxom dollop from over near Watchet. AND…
‘Twould seem she has some influence in the housing of homeless old rural sirens such as your very own Lovely One.
‘No, no, no!’ squealed V ex H, ‘I am not asking her if she can find accommodation for my homeless ex-wife! We’ve only had two dates!’
Date numero trois is happening this weekend (well, it begins on Friday.) Boy having been despatched elsewhere shaking his head in wonderment.
Reverting to housewife/mummy/superstar mode One offered…
‘Would you like me to clean your flat?’ having just visited the bog which required One to have a scrub down with a Brillo pad and a quart of Cillit Bang.
‘No thanks, I’ve got a plan,’ countered Vile ex H.
One would hesitate to guess at this plan, but suffice it to say that unless it involves throwing a hand grenade through the front door and starting from scratch, One foresees doom in the ‘staying the night (let alone the weekend) department.’
‘Do you remember when we first met and I wouldn’t use your bathroom until I’d cleaned it?’ recalled One, ‘You were surprised that I unearthed a pale peach bathroom suite underneath the brown one you’d been used to.’
He agreed. The penny didn’t drop though.
Let us hope the new ladylove is ackled up in rubber gloves upon her arrival and doesn’t mind getting down and dirty!
And so here, Dear Reader, the reason One is so hop, skip and chipperish in usual Pollyanna fashion…
Upon receipt of a missive reading…
‘I am armed with me mould and mildew spray for the bathroom.’
The A of the F replied…
How could One not love such a perfect specimen of manhood as that, Darlings?