Blatant Optimism

This is where the press gang get you and you go off to a war you know nothing about and only get home when spadger is ten. Spadger kicks your ankles and says get away from my mum.

Or,
there is a bright light in the sky and the walls go sort or fluid and you get sucked up to the space platform of another culture. They recognise how much info you have absorbed about pregnancy and birth and mistakenly believe that you are pregnant and spend the next ten years (earth time) keeping you under obwervation, unaware of human pregnancy span.

Or,
you go to the pub, get drunk lose your mobile phone, fall aspeep in a skip and miss the whole thing. When you come home, you frame such a witty question that all is both forgiven and explained (except by her mum)

or,
the whole thing is so convoluted a journey that you write he song of the century

or,
you have some nice pasta and wait by the phone until is time to go to work again

I just hope the press gang get all the elective caesarian women. We found out that they're the ones that have been holding us up.

There's no room at Ye Olde Delivery Suite Inn because the too posh to push brigade are actually too selfish to push.

Console yourself with the fact that the TPTP's are dooming themselves to never looking good in a bikini on a beach in the seychelles again...

Thanks for signing in, . Now you can comment. (sign out)

(If you haven't left a comment here before, you may need to be approved by the site owner before your comment will appear. Until then, it won't appear on the entry. Thanks for waiting.)

URL:
Remember me? YesNo

Comments: