A true account of what happened yesterday.
I arranged a delightful encounter with a lovely lady for yesterday (Sunday) afternoon. I'll call the lady C as she has a partner.
Being a man that likes to create at least some sort of impression I did a major blitz on the kitchen - not only cleaning but also tidying up those magazines that seem to pile up (Four Four Two , Cooking mags etc). Now, I thought that I would put the mags that I wanted to keep on the stairs (third step up) as a reminder to take them up to my office for filing.
C turned up at the appointed time and I made her watch Arsenal beat Villa - one could say that was better than an orgasm - but that would be foolish. Anyway the afternoon went well - and we both enjoyed ourselves.
C leaves and I finish the wine and retire to bed early; exhausted.
I awake at 3am.. trot off to the bathroom and then decide that a cup of tea is required.
Now; here's the rub. What you really must do is turn the f***ing lights on before going downstairs because otherwise you will step on the F***ing magazines that you placed on the stairs as a reminder to take them upstairs. And then you crash onto your cock sicks (sic) and bang your foot into the wall.
So, may I suggest that it is safer to leave the kitchen a mess.
And a joke to round off
Hollywood producer has obtained the rights to Dr Shipmans life story. Robert De Niro is to play the great doctor.
The movie title is to be ' The Old Dear Hunter'
I'll leave you with that
Paul
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:shock: :shock: :shock:
You FILE cooking magazines????
:shock: :shock: :shock:
You FILE cooking magazines????
:shock: :shock: :shock:
