pussyticklerI do… Every time I want to type, I have a pussy on the printer who wants to be petted. It can make posting a long involved process.

I googled pussy tickler… and after some electrifying dildoes, moustaches and even a bicycle I found Cameron Diaz… I thought well, that’s more appealing than a photo of my moustache, so there you have it.

It’s Monday once again. So far nothing has gone wrong, but the day is young.

It has started off okay, lots of coffee and marmalade on toast for breakfast.

I have no classes today. I could organise one, I do need the money, but the prospect of an extra day in which to R & R irresistible.

Lunch yesterday was leftover four cheese lasagna, today will be a BBQ 1″ thick pork chop and whatever I decide later, probably involve pickled cabbage and mashed potato with parsley butter. I may even whine wine a little to set the mood.

I had my hair and beard cut. I feel like a shorn sheep. Instead of the wind blowing through my locks, it just blows across the stubble. When I get my hair cut, it’s No. 1 comb on the clippers and GO! Only the pussy tickler moustache is spared this indignity and gets a light trim with the scissors so it doesn’t curl down over my upper lip or impede the entry of food.

Flamengo won it’s football game last night 0-0 until the last minutes, 1-0, the bar erupted with glee, except a lonely Fluminense support. Being normally a quiet unobtrusive type, even I let out a ‘whoop!’ Which stopped the regulars in their tracks, they’re not used to such behaviour from me. I felt quite contrite having disturbed the dancing and merrymaking.

This is my fifth post for the day, so I need to open another bottle of inspiration and see what transpires.

But a nap wouldn’t go amiss either.

Oh, later!

 

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