The Channel 4 comedy gala programme plays on the television. Some acts are funnier than others.
“Last night,” begins the LTLP, “I woke up and really needed a wee.”
I nod.
“But I didn’t go in the end,” she concludes.
There is silence. The conversation is closed. We continue to watch the comedy programme.
Romance is alive and well and living in Norfolk!
So glad that it’s not just us who have conversations like that!
I just spit out my tea. Thanks. 😉
You weren’t listening properly!
Take the hint . . .
She needs a Wii 😉
YEAH! ROCK’N’ROLL!!! Awesome domesticity there. Were either of you knitting, by the way?
Fortunately, thanks to those noble humanitarians at Channel 4, she can save up as much wee as she likes without fear of spilling any watching their super-lame comedy galas.
Oh. ‘SIT’on the sofa. Better than what I first thought.
Did you check the sheet this morning?
I thought for a bit about posting this, because it is a bit small and inconsequential compared with my usual insightful analysis. But I felt that I should give people a small glimpse in to the racy life I live in Norfolk.
Again – all in the subtext. It’s a scathing indictment of modern societies inability to recognize the socio-political role of the mytho-psychological archetype: maiden-mother-crone and the resulting taudry, quasi-religious iconization of the unter-heroine.
Damn, Megan, it’s as if you can read my mind.
…I felt that I should give people a small glimpse in to the racy life I live in Norfolk…
You may be in Norfolk, Jonny, but you will never be of Norfolk. All genuine fenland swamp-monsters hoard their pee in bell-jars, not in their bladders. Get with the program…
Bless her, she might as well enjoy the bladder control while she’s still got it.
“Bless her, she might as well enjoy the bladder control while she’s still got it.”
So true.
I love Megan (#9) and want her babies.
So now you’re a dating agency already!
I’m not cheap, but I’m easy.
Are we talking about the baby or the wife?
No offence.
I think we’re talking about Megan’s babies now, Pat. I must admit I didn’t know she had any. But if she has, she’ll need to keep an eye out for that thieving pikey Brennig…
Is this what it all comes down to?
Is this romance?
Is this *it*?
Bollywood lied?
Tsk.
I keep hoping someone would lecture me about the comfort / togetherness of true love, being able to discuss athelete’s foot, etc…
You’ve hit the ‘comfortable’ stage of a relationship.
Not sure really where it all goes from here.
You may be in Norfolk, Jonny, but you will never be of Norfolk
Oh, dear me, that’s a compliment! Ivan, are you ill? Has Obamacare turned you into this?!
Oh, Guyana Gyal nobody here will lecture you about such foolishness as true love.
“You think more of Norwich City than you do of me.”
“Actually, my angel, I think more of Ipswich Town than I do of you!”
GG: MTL and I often sit in the gloaming of an evening and discuss our athelete’s foot etc.
My dear Kermit, “You may be in Norfolk, Jonny, but you will never be of Norfolk” is not necessarily a compliment, as proof of which I offer you this, exempli gratis.
No need to apologize. My temperate and forgiving nature is legendary, as all here know…