Friday, February 14

If I mention that I work in a funeral parlour



the responses tend to fall at one or other end of the shock/awe spectrum

with a sprinkling of light confusion in between

Friday, January 17

A birthday party dip





The invitation requested fancy-dress. For purposes of not-drowning, fancy-dressing is restricted to above the neck. Before jumping in we made cool poolside cocktail chat, me in my pink wig and rockstar-sunglasses, a Salty-Sea Captain, a cock, a bear and a Wizard-of-Oz lion.

This is the UK,  sunny but still January. Despite having been here many times before, the sheer freezing cold surprised me.  I swam while gasping with shock. The water dragged the pink nylon wig from my head and the sodden Muppet made a break for the open ocean. I grabbed it, stuffed it down the front of my swimsuit and continued effortfully on my way.

Birthday cake and champagne were on hand for the after-swim-party which I attended with luminous pink chest and pubic hair peeping out around the edges of  my outfit


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