I'M NOT BITTER JUST VERY VERY SOUR
I think this is it.
I mean it.
Lesbo valley is the way to go.
No more men.
Men are evil.
Men are bad.
Bad for me.
If I could draw- you would see a big upside down face.
Sol watched me crying like a teenage girl down the phone to my
dear sister-thing. He was rather amused.
I was bawling.
I expect Raine was holding the phone at arms length.
When I had finished my little rant I made Sol drive me back to
his hotel room.
Yes I was ever the optimist.
Sol staunchly ignored me and ordered an evening meal of lobster (yuk!)
Oysters (gag!) Mussels (I'm sick now) and something which could only be
described as (Eeeewww!)
And a fruit platter.
And a bottle of Cristal for me.
I phoned Mal.
He made all the right noises and sounded very sympathetic.
But he obviously wasn't going to get off his fat arse for me tonight in the
"Oooh you should see him Mal, he looks like the perfect man, really beautiful
and his eyes so sparkly light in his face!"
"Did I tell you...........he.............never.............goes.......down?"
"On yew?" Mal giggled.
"Yes sadly on me!! But himself, he's perpetually hard. He should be called
The Rock, oh no someones already called that!!!! He's so magnificent!"
"On mai way!" Mal hung up.
What could I do with a South African guru, a bisexual Scotsman and a platter
Please don't answer that!!!!!