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Monday, January 26, 2004

My Special Friend

In all truth, the below joke comes from my charming little Australian friend called Rob. He is a wonderful creature that originally called one my house to look at the spare room, and in a manner only befitting those pornographical pictorials we all know and love, we had ended up in bed together before we could say ‘ Hello, I’ve come to see your spare room’. Thus began one of the longest 'relationships' I had ever undertaken, which was unfortunate as I was already seeing someone at the time. Who happened to be called Rob. So I didn't have to change the tattoo at all. Which was nice.
I am sure you are all aware of my weakness for Americans - 'one yank and my trousers are off’ ho ho - well. With Australians it is even worse, and Rob is a proper Aussie. Such a sweet and interesting and lovely guy. I am utterly smitten with him and am terribly protective too.

Rob announced that he was straight right after I started going out with the Wife. And while I normally mourn the passing of a gentleman caller over to Straightsville, I appreciate that he unknowingly has now taken himself off the board, as it where. Well, he is dangerously attractive and the only chink in my otherwise stolid Amour Armor that keeps the boys away while I’m seeing the Wife. This way, the urge to touch is somewhat diminished as he now likes ladies.

And I would like to claim that I am solely responsible for this life-style change: well, the evidence points to me becoming sexually unavailable, so he starts looking over his life and - unable to have me - he sighs and goes onto the other breed. I’d like to believe that, but I know it’s not true. Besides, I do know of at least one more incident where he slept with a boy post this: Gertie managed to get his feral paws into him on one occasion. And, frankly that would have any man with a strong constitution running for The Other Bus.

Or a HAZMAT shower.

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