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Monday, 5 January 2015

In which One is in deeper...

And so One was introduced to the family in it's entirety...
A tad overdressed in me Norman Hartnell 'new length' ballgown, when One repaired to the back yard to have a go on the trampoline, One shoved me tiara in a Mozzers carrier and bunged it in the boot.
'I think that's grandads girlfriend, Lovely Claire' whispered a small child.
A discerning girl, thought Lovely One.
Grandad, resplendent in a circa 1982 waistcoat, gave an enigmatic grimace and repaired to the garden for a fag.
'Tis the passing of many a moon since One was in the warm cuddle of a family, given One's airbrushing from One's own and the dismissal thereof.
The sojourn on the trampoline may have proven something of an error re the current internal goings on.
No matter, One is positively glowing with assumed acceptance.
One is oft in error, however, and shall await the verdict.
One must now await the call of the surgeon's knife.
Still, when the offending mass is removed One will very likely 're enter the fray looking sylph like and glam to the extent that Vogue will be clamouring to bung One on the cover.
Obv One shall have to decline, since One is duty bound to sashay off in the morning mists to wipe octogenarian arses for the foreseeable, or at least until Easter when One can commence flogging views of Padstow to campers from Birmingham.
But, as for the present...
One is stuffed to the gunnels with luuurve and tumours...

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