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Thursday, 19 February 2015

In which One begins a new day...

One has survived the night with the tender care of the A of the F who really ought to stop behaviing like the indestructible he man for my benefit. Not that One doesn't appreciate it, One does, but since both he and One find it difficult in the extreme to accept help we spend perpetuity in a near combat state.
Not to mention the other marvlious chums who have supported One through what has been oft times a dark place.
BF, even though creaking a bit herself, has continued to be the ever sensible, tiny little rock she always has been since first we met and One put One's hoof in it by enquiring,
 'who's that old bloke you're with? Is it yer Dad?'
'No, that's my husband,' said she, indignant on his behalf but secretly thrilled to have her youthfulness acknowledged.
The Pinkster, her bitch, her Aged P and the Montacutie have lent their unfailing moral support, as have people One has never even met, but who read this drivel on a daily basis.
Dear Little S, Mar and Full Frontal Sister continue to lurk in the dark shadows and leap out as and when a box of Pinot and a guffaw are required.
Aged P has sent financial offerings whilst still pretending to be gaga and not have a clue what's occurring.
There has, of course, been the ever present vitriol and bile spewed out by spiteful old women who'd be better occupied spending other people's money in a more productive manner. Or, alternatively, holing up in the garden shed with a pet Rabbit (known for putting a smile on the nastiest of faces)
Any road up, with A of the F snoring peacefully next One, One bids you 'good day', Dear Reader and shall biff off to make another pot of Espresso.
One shall return later with more side splitting tales of the womb of doom...

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