After Ian left last night, I had a peculiar dream about snakes. I think I might be watching too much TV, as I’m starting to have ads during my dreams. Sometimes I wake up for a few seconds to fast forward over them.
I was in a good mood today, despite the whistling on the way in. Then Kylie changed all that by telling me that the men reckoned they could tell when I’d had sex the night before. Stuart said something about sexual healing, which was annoying, the more so because, well, it was sort of true, except it’s more like a sexual prophylactic. I guess Marvin Gaye couldn’t find a word that had the same number of syllables as prophylactic and that rhymed with it.
Anyway, Stuart was puffing and sweating from walking up the stairs. I asked him if he was OK, and he said yes, he’s as fit as a Mallee bull. I said it must be one of those Mallee bulls you see leaning against a fence post having a cigarette.