I've just got in from a bash that required a D J. Not a disk jockey...
There's something about wearing a white shirt and bow tie that prompts one to order a Vodka Martini - shaken, not stirred.
*cocks Walther PPK, fires up DB7 and Lotus Esprit*
You can't drive two cars at once. Are you just going to leave one running on the drive? Think of the cost!
I've cleaned my bath. It's not grey any more. And the top of the cooker is no longer a sort of burnt brown spatter pattern. And the carpet is a sort of dirty beige instead of dirty beige speckled with fluff and breadcrumbs. I'm going to have a fortifying cup of tea, and then fix the p***t*** on the rear wheel of the FCR.
I've even been shopping. I was stopped on the way back by a group of young American girls, looking for the Jewish Cemetery (just round the corner). I thought I better check something, and was glad to find out thay they did already know it had been covered with a car park... There's a plaque though, I hope they found it.
