Yes I bloody am, sorry for swearing but I've had a few. Wilf rang and asked me to dinner at the civil service club which is always fun. I was pleased to note that they've retained their coffin/sweet trolley, which is always reassuring during these difficult financial times. We had the three course Thursday special which included a choice of roast waterfowl - Wilf joked that they'd been hunting in nearby St James's Park with an enormous butterfly net to save on butcher's fees.
Wilf is rather dreamy after several glasses of wine. His hair doesn't appear quite so greasy when you've enough booze to oil the wheels of attraction and his pimples were hidden under a trainee goatee beard. I particularly loved the way he'd teamed a pair of suit trousers with casual Converse, surely a fashion juxtaposition nobody has really thought out.
He's asked me out again on Saturday for a car journey to the coast. I've accepted as I've nothing better to do now Mother spends most of the time with her fancy man and Father has donned his earthworm suit and wriggles around the garden in an alarming manner most of the time.
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