Has it really been a whole month since my last post? I was going to say 'entry', but that certainly wouldn't be true! Mind you, 'post' would be a bit of a grey area (more about that, shortly) too, coming to think of it.
Any-old-road, I met this, erm, older gentleman from London, last month, and have spent a little time at his place, in his company and that of a few of his stockbroker friends.
Quite an eye-opener, if you'll pardon the pun.
It simply hadn't ever occured to me that people in 'high stress' jobs would, naturally, make very interesting bed companions. Well, involuntary twitching of the sphincter need not neccesarily be a handicap in all walks of life.
And I must confess my surprise at discovering that he was 74 years old. I thought he was in his 80's, going by his appalling state of decay!
Still, he had a few beans to chuck around and I've been curious about that kind of lifestyle since hearing Eastcliff Richard constantly gloating and banging on about it, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.
Rather enjoyed it, I must say!
Though I have put on two stone in weight and developed an aversion to dried prunes, on the strength that they remind me of the poor old fella's somewhat knarly pair of knackers.
The things we'll do for money, eh?
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2 comments:
Hang on! Crinkley Bottom... loads of dosh... looked in his 80s... He didn't keep asking "Feel or no feel?" did he?
He did keep referring to his 'love appendage' as Mr Blobby, which kinda suited it, really.
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