Ann Summers haste hath too short a lease

It’s all to do with the ears apparently.

“I can’t seem to get the batteries in the bottom, Sar”.

Our dear chum Buuuuuud called last week to see if I was thirsty, but unfortunately on this occasion I had other plans. I say I had other plans, although to be more specific, Liz did, as I have been applying paint to our bedroom for the last fortnight like it’s going out of fashion. Anyway, my being confined to the bedroom neatly brings me on to the recent activities of Buuuuud & Dean, of whom not a lot has been heard of late, and when she telephoned, all became apparent. In short, Dean had brought Sarah a rabbit to keep the cat company, and she has been at home playing with it all summer. Apparently, the new addition to the family brings a rosy glow to her cheeks on a daily basis (twice on Saturday’s) and they have named the rabbit “Floss” (bless).

On top of that, her department is in the process of being revamped at work, which has probably been a worry. As a result, it all seems to have been too much for Sarah, who commented to me regarding her recent hectic schedule “Do you know Matt, some days I don’t know whether I’m coming or going”. For once, even I was lost for words. One can only hope that the rabbit doesn’t give Sarah’s pussy myxomatosis. Now, that would be tragic.