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Pubic Wars – no, not Carthage

The Pubic Wars continue; ‘Delenda est Pudenda?’ (a long time after Pliny). Unlikely if anyone nowadays knows what I’m banging on about.  Thickos.

Edzilla continues with her post-feminist critique of foreplay, and dirty old men, in sickness and health. Now one of my main matress-fodder needs upping because she is too passive.  So she can play ‘top jockey’ – but she’ll still be putty on his gland; or whatever. Oh. And is all the violence really necessary? [watch it, EdZ]

Anger Management has a place

Nothing that couldn’t be cured by some Anger Management Classes. And some pliers, electric cables and molten wax. If the hero is meant to be, how shall we say, ‘ethically challenged’, he cannot be a Care Bear with tits! Unlike the heroine. Too young? Let’s add on a few years; a few extra wrinkles and a few more acres of orange peel. Maybe some ‘love handles’ with attitude? He buys her beautiful lace underwear from Florence – the Via Tournabuoni for heaven’s sake. Like she’s not gonna put out for him?  Yeah, sure.

So does a washing machine

Stepping aside from the Pubic Wars. Victory on another front. I’ve learned how to work the washing-machine; again. So, I only use it every two months? Once I’ve run out of y-fronts and the socks start sticking to the floor, then it’s time …  Only I’d forgotten how to make it work. 

But I figured buying more and more packs of y-fronts from ASDA wasn’t really a cure. Yes!  So I managed to put the gunky sludge in the right hole – down EdZilla – and get a real temperature to wash the stuff in. 

What’s with all this cold water washing nonsense? That won’t clean anything; especially the grollies on my handkerchiefs and the odd sleeve.

publisher mihi deest, segnis spurius

Besides; I’ve much more important stuff to worry about. That’s right; venison stew. No. Thanks.  Honestly. I know eggsactly how many bloody juniper berries to put in it; I just don’t know where to get them. Blast! I’d try the Web thing but it’s still hors de wombat. 

Mac, the Publisher, said he’d connect it up for me on his return from Bognor Regis or wherever he is on a week’s holiday. His whole life is a bloody holiday! 

Good book though; Angel’s Cut. Convoluted corruption in high places; and some ‘ultra violence’; albeit reluctantly. The hero really is a good guy, for a stone cold killer. My guy would have killed all the bastards by the end of Chapter Three. Sensitively, of course. Must get the next one, Dark something or other. And get him to sign them both. Worth more when his wife finally kills him for all the work he’s doing when he said he was going to ease off.
by John J McCabe