Wednesday, January 9, 2013

MISS BLOWJOB 2008. APPARENTLY...



You'll be sorely disappointed to hear that my assault on the mountain did not end in my inevitable painful death. Although there was most definitely some pain. And the word "sorely" has been burning into my frontal lobe all day. My innards did, however, at times feel like the contents of an Aromat container in the hands of a compulsive autocondimentor. So shaken, but not stirred, I made it through the ordeal, even managing a fake smile as I "sauntered" to the car as it was all over and done. Mountain 0. Me 1. The boep still holds all the rest of the cards...

Then it was onto the evening of evenings! I got soooo spoiled last night! It was worth the ordeal, although I am reasonably sure I would have received the royal treatment even if I hadn't attempted suicide by turned ankle coupled with collapsed lung. I got an amazing dinner cooked for me. I got to watch Bafana Bafana lose to Norway (it was actually quite a good game) and I got to pass out before we got around to the movie I got for Christmas. I must be doing SOMETHING right.

And tonight I get to make more glorious noise. Doubt if the neighbours will agree, but they've been suitably desensitized over the years. And there's beer. And LordDoom is on some crusade or detox or something so more for me. Tomorrow's piece is tentatively titled "The Hangover".

And then there's internet shopping. It's certainly a strange way to illustrate how old I've become, but being genuinely pleased that the kitchen appliances I ordered arrived so quickly is all the proof you need that I have successfully assimilated Martha Stewart. "If we look at the book itself - Add a dab of lavender to your bathwater..." With extra special thanks to Aunty Nexus for my pressies!

Looking forward to another 3 day test on Friday. And they say T20 hasn't impacted the classic form of cricket.

NGDG: You'd be forgiven in thinking I've made some form of resolution this year only to share happy positive thoughts. My only resolution was to avoid having 'ina' scrawled on my forehead to pair with last year's 'vag'.

Neal, a modern day poet.

Spread The Love. Love Is The January Sales Before The February Hallmark Guilt Romance.

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