I’m having a bit of a conundrum. Our marriage needs spicing up and I can’t decide whether to take the evening classes in pole dancing or belly dancing. Both advertisements for the courses look enticing.
The pole dancing workshops require that I have my own pole at home so I can practice. I suppose I could use the pole on the lawn that holds up the kids’ basketball hoop. The trouble is it can get a bit muddy on the lawn sometimes, especially if it has been raining. I would have to wear a pair of wellingtons or gumboots or whatever they call them. The other disadvantage is that the lawn is right next to the main road and it would be quite a spectacle for passers-by until I learnt to do it properly.
Belly dancing demands that I have my own mirror. It has to be large apparently, and I don’t think I have one big enough. Have you seen the price of mirrors these days? Couple that with the cost of paying for the ten-week lot of evening classes and I think that option has priced itself out. It’s a pity because I’ve got the veils and beads and things hidden away somewhere in a bottom drawer.
So it looks like it’ll be pole dancing. Being next to the main road might spur me on to get good at it quicker!
Oh-oh! I’ve just received a text from hubby. He says he has enrolled in evening strip-tease classes. It’s going to be an exciting ten weeks.
Brenda Clifford didn’t realize she was lonely until her television went on the blink.
Angela Charlesworth didn’t realize her marriage was on the rocks until her television went on the blink.
Geoff Craighead didn’t realize he was feeding his kids junk food until his television went on the blink.
Anthony Barlow didn’t realize he believed everything on the news until his television went on the blink.
Augusta Lorrigan didn’t realize she was drinking herself to death until her television went on the blink.
Lou Monks didn’t realize how untidy the house was until his television went on the blink.
When Rod Watson’s television went on the blink he didn’t notice anything except that his television was on the blink. He went out and bought another television and installed it before the sports game started. He bought some beer on the way home, told his wife and kids to shut up, burped, farted, and settled down for the night.
Some people can’t but help get lucky. Such was the case with Sally Ebbett. She fell in love with a Bohemian gentleman who was Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz. Sally loved his accent. He was not only titled but rich. Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz proposed and they were married on a Croatian mountaintop with a magnificent view. Sally wanted a lavish church wedding, but Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz thought something simpler was a lot nicer. And indeed it was!
Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz had a castle which Sally had never seen. It was in the hinterland and full of tapestries and servants. Sally couldn’t wait to get there, but her husband kept suggesting other plans for them to enjoy their early married life.
“It doesn’t hurt for us rich people to occasionally rough it like ordinary poor folk,” said Count Fridrik Hasištejnský z Lobkowicz. (He pronounced “poor folk” as “purr Voke”; he was so Bohemian! so disarming!) “It is easy to lose touch with reality and misplace one’s humility. A simple walk in a dark forest is more agreeable than having a servant dust your bookshelf.”
They lived for a while in a little caravan on the side of a river. Sally’s husband liked to fish. He certainly led the life of the landed gentry! Who else could afford not to work and to fish all day?
Eventually Sally got really sick of him. “I want to go to my castle and live the life of the rich,” said Sally.
But there was no castle. There was no fortune. And conman, Johnny Jones from the next village, was now floating down the river with his head decapitated by a spade.
The headline said it all, in the opinion of Mrs Angela Fergusson: MINNIE DAVIDSON MARRIES YOUNG.
I’m not at all surprised, said Mrs Angela Fergusson. When she was at school she was a ripe tart, always hanging around boys. It was as if she couldn’t get enough of it even back then, and now she’s gone and got married when she’s barely out of diapers. It disgusts me. It’ll end up in divorce for sure. These days people should wait to get married, not rush into it like they’re mature enough to know what they’re doing. But, oh no, these people have to dash madly in love and run off and buy a wedding dress. Minnie Davidson never had any values, and now she squanders what the rest of us regard as a sacred state to pamper her youthful desires.
If Mrs Angela Fergusson had bothered to read the article she would have noticed that Mr and Mrs Harry YOUNG are both in their thirties and honeymooning in the Seychelles.
Claudia and Johnnie had been married for a good number of years. Over time, things that Johnnie did, little mannerisms and habits, began to annoy Claudia. Why, for example, did he always have to brush down the seat of the sofa before sitting down? The same for getting into the car. It was driving Claudia nuts.
There were other things too. The big annoyance was that he was older than she was. He had retired and stayed at home all day, while she still went to work. Talk about lazy. She almost pined for the day when he would pass away and she could live an independent life the way she wanted it. His fastidiousness was a constant aggravation.
Claudia thought Johnnie was eating unhealthily at lunch time when she wasn’t there. She began to prepare and leave healthy food for him to eat; organic fillings with gluten-free bread rolls, supplementary vitamin pills, non-fatty meats, and so on. No salt of course; never any salt.
After several months, Claudia discovered that Johnnie wasn’t eating the stuff she had prepared. He was eating junk food and hiding her preparations in the trash. No wonder the poison hadn’t worked.
I like to put a dollar or two on the horses. Not much, mind. Just a dollar each way, here and there. Once I won almost nine hundred dollars. Nine hundred dollars! Can you imagine that!
My wife – well my ex-wife actually, but that’s another story – she didn’t like me putting the occasional dollar on the horses. She used to think that there were better things to spend money on. Dresses and stuff I suppose. Yeah right. And lipstick and junk.
When they took the kids away she upped and left. She’d had enough she said. The judge gave her custody of the kids eventually. But I don’t see anything wrong with it. Just a dollar here and there, each way. Occasionally.