Journey through space to the Planet Fabulous, where the Ruler of the Universe will see you shortly.

Friday, November 21, 2008

Tires

Ah the turn of the season. Isn't this glorious - the leaves, the colours? The chance of bringing out your long coats and pretending you're in a TV show title sequence when a Tube train whizzes by, fooming your hair and coat out dramatically. Me, I make sure I'm listening to the 'Alias' title music as it happens, though I know in my heart I'm secretly more 'Laverne and Shirley'. I'm always loosing my glove on beer bottles, see.

And my balance on whiskey bottles.

And my dignity on vodka bottles.

Anyway, along with the cold often comes illness, and I'm a little under the weather at the moment, and browsing through an online dispensary for something to take the edge off this cold. How wonderfully 21st Century! You can order anything, completely self-medicate! If it was good enough for Britney Spears, its good enough for me - and look how well that turned out. But what's this? click click click Apparently there are Viagra suppositories now. Why? Why go to all that trouble with pills? These are quite clearly useless to any Gentleman Who Can't Catch - I mean, as soon as you stick something up my nethermouth, things are going to rise to the occasion.

And these days, it's such a two-way street! Sometimes you do worry about whether there's going to be any tread left on the tires come old age. I mean, in days of old I used to believe that sex should be like football - half-time, change ends - but with my current relationship... well, lets just say that Ryan swept me off my feet and instantly insisted that they were both pointed at the baby Jesus. And he's 23, for goodness sake, with a drive to match. Its a wonder that have to clench when I sit on a barstool lest I slip down it to the floor. Its starting to look like a bloodied windsock down there. Indeed. I recall the one instance that a doctor once had to give me a bit of medicine via that entrance (this is not a euphemism for once) and he was all "Brace yourself, you may feel a little - oh!" and then had to retrieve his wedding ring with the help of a colleague. And a miner's helmet.

Anyway, before my order is dispatched (and you loose your lunch) I shall top up on Beechams and head out. Maybe some chocolate too - that's meant to help, right? That's what the funny uncle in the local sweetshop of my youth used to say. God, he was camp. You'd go in and ask "Can I have a Twirl and a Boost?" he'll spin around gaily and say "Honey, you look fabulous today!"

Have a good weekend, y'all.

4 comments:

Kezza said...

Bloodied windsock you say? Interesting anaolgy, and are you sure the baby Jesus isn't offended by the fact you're pointing your heels at him while you engage in, what would appear to be a rather one-sided football match?

MinCat said...

god i love that doctor story of yours.

CyberPete said...

You could also try and switch. Point your feet towards Mecca, just to honour the Islam people for a change.

The Christians can only take so much, you know.

JohnnyFox said...

You could vary the diet with the Jewish Princess position ... on your knees facing Selfridges :-))