It Is Back

Okay! Five months is a long time away. But you know, foggy forgotten long weekends turn into foggy forgotten months and so on and so on, etc etc ad nauseam. Anyway writing here had become too hazardous to mention. But I will anyway; in a few short months I had collected my own little team of Santa’s little stalkers! Unfortunately these were all male and two out of three of them wanted to know about icky-icky stuff. Okay you guys, poo is a turn off and no I am not gay, not even when I was at school. But to my third obsessive mailer I must say that you looked great in your wife’s underwear but I would have preferred to see pics of her in them. I have no problems with a UK size 20! Well, nothing that five pints of stella couldn't put right.

Female stalkers I can handle. I think!

In fact, I was out with Walt extolling the virtues of a certain large redhead that I had seen at a petrol station when he said

“Well, it must be an age thing!”

“What must be an age thing?”

“Finding big women attractive.”

Perhaps it is, but when I was a lad, I knew many a skinny young man who went weak at the knees over a girl with a sweaty top lip and grew strangely aroused at the sound of her nylon clad thighs causing friction up her skirt on the walk back home from the boozer.

Obviously, many things have occurred and changed down at The-Worst-Pub. And more to the point many things have changed in my life. No, actually the point of all this is The-Worst-Pub!

Anyway, I will save that until tomorrow. I must put my chicken pieces in the oven. This will be my twelfth chicken night in succession, which is a record even for ole chicken loving me.