Comments are (re)enabled
Feel free to brush coyly against my thighs, the air redolent with the hint of indiscretion. Or tell me I’m a boring twat. Your choice.
Feel free to brush coyly against my thighs, the air redolent with the hint of indiscretion. Or tell me I’m a boring twat. Your choice.
For what it’s worth, I’ll be gone again after tomorrow but this time my absence won’t be the result of yet another flounce. We’re moving to a new place and once the extortionate fees are paid to the letting agency there’ll not be much left to fund getting online. Nor can I see the situation changing come the end of November, when my blood pressure will reach hitherto unseen heights as I deplete my monthly pittance on new furniture from Ikea. Hey, you never know: maybe the rentier class* scumbags from whom we rent our current domus will part with the deposit and I’ll be back soon, but as i) I’ve smoked pretty much continually in here for the last three years, turning the walls and ceiling yellow in a manner which entirely violates the contract and ii) we’re ditching two months earlier than we agreed owing to yet another infestation of mice, I doubt it very much.
Over the coming days my Tumblarity will flatline from its current high of 12 but don’t forget me. In the meantime, thanks in particular to Crowth and John for reliably liking any old shit I’ve posted. I know essentially they’re pixelated pity fucks, but I take what I can get.