I like driving in my car…

But not when the MOT costs £411.56. Ouch.

Yeah, that was a stinger. Add to that some idiot trying to get me to stand in the middle of Kentish Town looking like a streetwalker, and things add up to a pretty bad day.

Only it was good in most parts! I’d had an extreeeemely relaxing and raunchy session early in the evening*, and when someone calls me, and asks me to dress in short skirts, I know it’s time to bring out the Amish type black ankle length stuff.

The only thing that annoys me is that someone like that might call someone less experienced (or more patient/less curmudgeonly) who might just get dressed in something more worthy of The Bunny Ranch, and stand in a less attractive part of town waiting for him. And what if something were to happen to her? He’d never know, would live guilt free for the rest of his life, and continue calling girls to fulfill this little fetish of his until he has achieved his life’s ambition, and finally filled a bath with his own spuff.

That’s why I withdraw skirt privileges when they start asking for it. Then it’s hardy jeans and a long sleeved shirt. If yer lucky!

I should have stuck to my instincts and stayed at home. But I needed some milk and Kentish Town is only 2 minutes away from me. Plus I wanted to see just what this £411.56 had done to my car!** So even if he has no intention of showing up, thought I, still not a wasted journey. And no, I was not in Hooker dress, so the shop assistants in Tesco’s didn’t get to see any of my fine assets when I did, inevitably, end up in there getting milk and something for dinner.

But we must always lok on the bright side of  life. I came home to find a dead mouse on my doorstep. Proof that whilst my cat loves me, she also thinks I’m useless at hunting, and she must therefore provide tasty dead rodent snacks. And as they say, dead rodent snack love is better than no love at all!

*He’d come through the rain, on a bike! Aww…that deserves brownie points 😀

**The Answer? Not Bloody Much.

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