As I set off on a cold and dreich morning, I’m greeted – yet again - with this accusation. This time, by an old chat walking his dog, with whom I engage conversation [deliberately ambiguous]. This time he is, erroneously referring to my cerebral capacity :{
Anyway, he has this gorgeous golden retriever. Emma is an eleven-years-old, retired guide dog. She has got this facial expression: which, on the one-hand, plays the sympathy card, “I’ve done my bit for society, yes and I worked very hard, in doing so;” whilst, on the other hand, coyly requests, “Now I want all the attention in the world. Please stroke, cuddle, tickle, hug, as appropriate!”
I really wanted to spent the night camped in Birnam Wood, but it was cold and wet, and it actually kept moving away from me!!
Stayed in the hotel – very posh and comfortable. She was asking £79, but I “sweet-talked” the price down to £45 – if I had a “brass-neck,” I would have managed £40
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