Thank you Piff.....It gets even worse. The Curry's Store in question is not that far away from my home. Chances are then, that the Lady is local.
This morning, whilst walking the dog in the park, I thought I saw her coming in the opposite direction. It turned out to be someone else entirely, but I now feel a bit "exposed", in my own back yard, so to speak.
I think I shall take to wearing sunglasses............
Heeven, what can I say? Another celebrity suffering only eases my pain slightly, and I was looking for a lot more comfort than that.
It is a horrible feeling, isn't it? At least this woman didn't know EXACTLY who I was, but she had a damn good try at finding out. How did you deal with your co-worker?
Details, I am no good with. I can be on the phone to my brother for an hour, and when I hang up my wife will ask "Well, what did you talk about?" "Haven't the foggiest" I usually reply. Typical male, really.
In all honesty, I didn't really pay TOO much attention to what she was saying, as my brain was racing fifteen to the dozen, thinking "Sh*t! How do I get out of this one?"
.........and as far as "bursting your bubble" is concerned, I could make a joke about it, involving the word Pr*ck, but I shall resist as I know you have had rather a puritan upbringing.
Well, sunglasses would make you look especially dashing, I'm sure, even in the driving rain. Who needs handsome when one is dashing, anyway?
Uhhh, btw. Heeven is right. We want ALL the details.
Tap-Tap-Tap
Well my coworker said he had been reading this site and just plain came out with "This Heeven person sounds just like you, it's you, right?" I was so caught off-guard that I said yes. He thought some of the stories were funny, especially since he had heard the cleaned-up versions from me in person. A good job that the guy was a pal, someone who knows me and apparently likes me. I told him to keep his trap shut or I would do bodily harm to him (didn't want him spreading word throughout the office). He chuckled but knowing me pretty well, he kept it quiet, reading occasionally and guffawing - I'd yell over to him to get off those porn sites. Since I left that site I never revealed my new home so I can post and chat like a woman possessed here!
I'd ease your pain but my left hand is sore today - too much beer chugging last night.
I am sure I would know you if I met you. And aren't you the chatty little bugger of American ladies? You got a lot of gossip in before the checkout. What are you? a woman? What's going on here?
I'm going to have to re-establish the vision I have of you - riding britches, shiney leather boots, whip in hand, toast crumbs and jam in your mustache (saving some for later?), gale force wind yanking your comb-over into your dark sultry eyes ... Wow mamma, that jam is turning me on!
Let's be having it milord-How did A2K crop up in a queue full of strangers with a woman twice(?) your age?
I think we should be told.
he's explained read post #1
Sorry.I had read the first post but with all the excitement I had forgotten that it was because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.
With all the other stuff I'm learning I wouldn't be surprised to find that he plays golf,cleans his car on Sundays and takes pride in the nice lines he mows on his lawn.I bet he has some Barry Manilow records.
It always gets really exciting, when a 'dog' and 'curry' are mentioned in the very same chapter ...
best to keep your nose out of that Spendy, especially the Barry Manilow records...
There was an Indian restaurant in Stockport once called the SUMRAT (dont need to explain to you Walt but for others SUMRAT = Some Rat?
(ask McTag)
I know that story
-:- (-:-) 30 mins to go, btw!
That of course was when they still had the dog to catch the rats.
When it died they moved to Essex and opened the Barking Curry Restaurant.
less than 30 mins now, getting very excited (not)
might even watch Robert Zim....no only joking
Come on lads.I need expert advice.I've only had a playful bet on Benfica so far but there's still time.
Are Benfica any good?Quick.
Alright already, for the sake of some peace, I will try to remember, to the best of my ability, what transpired that fateful day.
It was a slightly cloudy morning, I noticed whilst sitting on the karzy. I had been there for about an hour and was beginning to wish that I had installed the grunt bar that had been advertised in my monthly edition of "Bowel World." More fibre, methinks.
Today, I realised, I had to endure the horror of going into a public place and purchasing something.....every man's nightmare.
In order to make this a more comfortable experience, I had cleared all the necessary orifices, and had consumed a large wozzer.
So, disappointed after an unsuccesful evacuation, I took a deep breath and went to the car, in order to commence with the neccesary awfulness of the day.
The precinct that contained the place of horror where the gadget that I was requiring could be located, consisted of the usual suspects. A carpet shop, an outlet that sold all manner of tools and accessories to working class men with droopy trousers, a garden centre that had a free ranging Parrot who abused everyone and nicked kiddies biscuits, a hobbycraft shop for aspiring artists, or anyone else who wanted to make silver, glittery Xmas cards with beads on, and a store that sells electrical goods, called Curry's.
I parked in an area where there seemed to be a better class of car, and headed into the store. To my dismay, it was packed...and not a sales assistant in sight to take my order, nor a porter to carry it to the car.
Fortnum and Masons it was not, so I braced myself to start searching for the item myself, which was not at all easy.
What do people DO with all these goods? There were racks and rows of everything that was supposed to be labour saving......an electric juicer, now why the bloody hell would anyone want one of those? Take one's finger off in a flash no doubt, all for the sake of a glass of orange.
Doorbells that play a multitude of tunes that sounds like one of those awful musical cards.....no class at all, some folk.
Anyway, I digress.....The thingummyjig I was after was the doo dah that reacts with the remote wotsit sensor on the TV, enabling one to change, from the comfort of one's chesterfield, from the polo channel to the hunting channel, which by the way, is a big con.
When I signed up to it, I was led to believe that Fox News was all about various sightings of the vermin, so that I knew where to head wiith my gun at weekends.
Wrong.....all I can see is a bunch of overly coiffured johnnies, talking in some foreign accent about "turnpikes" and 'three down on four in the fifth quarter, with four minutes to go" all day....... Bloody rip off, all in all.
Anyway, I finally located the oojummyflip, and headed off to the checkout to pay for the blighter. That was when it all happened, but the evacuation is finally underway, so I will be back in a jiff............
The verbal diarrhea will be back shortly - he's visiting the crapper.
He should chew on some Panda real liquorice.Then it might not take him so long to get his story together.
The Champions league is on, Spendy....I've just come in to write a bit more because of half time.
Sorry!
