Welcome
home. Can I begin by saying:
Not
only did I choose this because of the song – I thought you’d appreciate the
literal, visual interpretation of the lyrics too. It reminded me of some of our dance routines.
I
feel for you and your arse issues. I’ve
had several of my own recently, but those are mainly to do with too much anal
sex after what has been a veritable drouth.
Imagine having an enema for three consecutive days and you’ll get the
idea – what’s tragic about it is that I don’t seem to have lost any weight as a
result.
I
have decided, as one of your closest friends, it is now my responsibility to
take on your wine consumption by proxy. I
know, I know, I’m a selfless fecker. You’ll
be pleased to hear that tonight I am indulging in a nicely chilled Penis
Grigio, it’s absolute muck but was on offer at my local wine merchant (aka
Costcutter).
When
I was younger, so much younger than today, I often questioned why women of my
mother’s age all drank spirits... Their
reasoning is becoming more apparent with every passing year. I imagine the only downside to committing to
a lengthy relationship with gin, vodka or whiskey would be what doctors have
termed the ‘Foie Gras Effect’ on your liver.
I will consider this carefully when I start pissing blood, but until
then I’m happy to go with what I term as the ‘Que Sera Sera Effect’.
On
that healthy note, I’m off to bed for a wank.
I think this evening’s stimuli will be the aforementioned Hugh Jackman
in Les Mis, on his death bed (in his death chair) with David Essex hair. I’m wet already.
Frankie
No comments:
Post a Comment