Saturday 24 July 2010

Attack of the Fifty New Women


If I have one more glass of wine I shall be using my face to de-glaze the pan for my Canard Roti aux epices or whatever the hell it is; late guests and the oven chips (proper home made ones) are starting to look like witches teeth.
In the mean time the home-made washing line, let alone every available surface is bedecked with prints of so-called fetish women (I'm as fetish as rice pudding), sailors, flying cocks and Japanese girls with foot dildos.
In the corner, ready to embalm paintings which are due to be posted to Sylt, Germany, is a huge roll of bubble wrap which I cunningly carried from work by wrapping it around a poster tube.
It looks like a tampon for the 50 Foot Woman.
No wonder she looks so angry in the poster.

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