I know you’re out there, somewhere, reading this… You know who you are.
I have your gloves. Am holding them for ransom until such time as you release your car and your body to me for exploitation.
I need stuff from the garden centre. I need transport. You have car. I have gloves. I think we can work this out, don’t you?
Meet you somewhere dodgy, perhaps on Saturday. There may be a hot chocolate in it for you.
PS: When I said your body, I meant I wanted you to help lifting bags of compost. What did you think I meant?
Posted by Fionnaigh at September 3, 2003 01:10 AM