Hols

[tel]

Danger, danger

[Bar Wench]

I fear Nick may not be long for this world. 

[tel]

The scene -

"now dearest, please take somet ime to look through this and let me know what you fancy"

[Nick]

She won't know that I ordered it!

[The Moan Ranger]

MEANWHILE, back on topic, the Turkish mossies seem to like prime Surrey beef (not foot + mouth infected) but are not chomping on the Scousers or fat holidaymakers from Krautland. It shows they have taste. I am not sure on their opinions on love balls or anal beads, though.


Tel, tell you young friend he would be wise to scrub his uglies with wire wool and Jeyes fluid.

[tel]

She won't know that I ordered it!

What? She will think it's from a secret admirer?

[Nick]

We get tons of junk mail!

And she is forever ordering things from catalogues. Makes a change from effing saucepans.

[Bar Wench]

She won't know that I ordered it!

Think she might guess you know.

[Nick]

I know her. She will not guess!!

[tel]

I know her. She will not guess!!

Famous last words

[Bar Wench]

I know her. She will not guess!!

So what reaction are expecting? 

[Nick]

Mixture of amazement/amusement/curiousity

[Bar Wench]

Mixture of amazement/amusement/curiousity

She might just suffle it away never to see the light of day.

[Nick]

They have both just woken up. I explained that I was making a delightful roast chicken and salad and suchlike to eat at about 6.30 so that we could sort of get our body clocks resynchronised.

They both went, "Yuk. Chicken"

Well they can f*ck off. It is that or starve little family.

Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

[Bar Wench]

Bacon and pancakes were perhaps more their sort of thing?