Not so much cutting edge as half-cut and still sliding.
Sunday, 8 October 2006
There's bags. And then there's bags.
"How are things with the new baby?" said a friend, giving me a carrier bag with a wrapped parcel in it: a present for Pugsley. "Fine, thanks, very well," I replied cheerfully. "So, what's with the bags under your eyes then?" he enquired.
Delightful people with a little too much time on their hands
Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.
Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?
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