Hello, everybody thought I'd bung down summink quick while my big bastard 
print job is going.
     
No fantastic stories to recount as the big bad world of work prevents me 
creating them at the rate I used to - sorry Fletch (however, I do have a 
few saucy tit bits (snigger) for you when we next meet).

I set Smithy up with a dead cert the other weekend but he didn't seem very 
enthusiastic about her. She came over to talk to myself and smithy on the 
pretext that she wanted to read my 'Dicks dilemma T-shirt'. However, as she 
was a horror, I decided to stitch Smithy up by turning away and snuggling 
upto Ruth (my sexy seventeen year old) just as Miss 'orrible sat down. Even 
at this late stage, sensing that things had taken a turn for the worst, 
Smithy attempted to get away with some excuse about having to go and talk 
to an imaginary person, but after much encouragement, 'sit down you big 
Jessy', and such like Smithy held his ground and engaged in polite 
conversation. The 'how the hell do I get out of this' vibes were all too 
obvious to all and sundry, except to the bitch from hell. Much to our 
amusement she mercilessly pursued her quarry. 

At this point I felt it my duty to inform the said ugger wugger that Nick 
had a sore leg and that his thigh could do with a bit of a massage. I had 
barely finished my sentence when her hand slid up our worried man's thigh. 
Fair play to the man, he remained calm and unflustered during this 
difficult period and pronounced that it was too sore to touch (ooeeer!).
At this point, Vinny, felt it appropriate to point out that Nick was single 
and was looking for a good time and he was just a bit shy. Nicks phlegmatic 
composure was now showing signs of weakening and I seem to remember a few 
porky pies passing through the Smithy laughing gear. Finally, Nick got shot 
of her by convincing her that she stood more chance with his mate (I forget 
his name) who, Nick reliably informed me, has a whole history of serious 
trog shagging and this would be the ultimate test. Within, 30 seconds warty 
features and Nick's mate were snogging and she had 'old of his purple wand 
and hairy sack of magic.

Sensing that the situation had now slipped out of my control, I tried to 
bribe Vinny into shamefull action by offering him 40 if he would snog her 
in the pub, infront of us, for at least 2 minutes. Works out at 750 pound 
an hour. He wasn't keen, but 40 quid is a lot of money to an impoverished, 
heavy drinking, squash playing, student, and after a few moments 
deliberation, he refused. Damn, students aren't as hard up as they make out. 

I tried the same bribe on Nick, who considered it quite seriously (much to 
my surprise), but eventually declined on the grounds that a man can only 
stoop so low. 
     
Given that this girl wasn't fat, just ferociously ugly, probably equivalent 
to the ugliest girl in the squash club (whoever that was for you) - what 
levels of bribing would have been sufficient for the Lards to, snog the 
rancid hag in full view of ones peers, too much applause and raucous 
heckling for the duration of 2 minutes.
 
This way I know how much money to draw out the cash point!
      
All my lurrving, 
     
Dr Luv MK I

{Censored for family viewing}