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Monday, 17 November 2014

In which One is a bit scared...

Good morrow fair readers and may your day bring joy unbounded.
Mine won't, as One is rigid with trepidation regarding the twinkle/chuff box/Polaroid swinger incident marked on One's dance card for tomorrow night.
Yes, that's right, 7.30pm is the rather unusual time of night earmarked for twinkle excavating. Let's hope the polaroids got a built in flash.
Any road up, One very nearly didn't live to see this morning dawning as according to the A of the F, One was conducting a brutal punch up with an unknown assailant whilst emitting snores of such magnitude that upon inhalation One sucked open the wardrobe door and brought the carefully laundered contents ceiling-ward.
He had biffed One up the bracket a few times and was on the cusp of shearing to the spare room, when One ceased and desisted and snuggled down in a more ladylike fashion.
So, at the time of night when any self respecting lush would be half way down a catering pack of Pinot and sucking the last puff out of a dog end, One will be entertaining a medic up me business end.
This time last year, couldn't have given a flying feck what happened to One, but now One does and shall be doing One's darndest to keep the A of the F awake in more thrilling ways for the passing of many a moon.

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