This is me...I live in a colander in the

This is me...I live in a colander in the downstairs cupboard... I like cliffs, and Bungee Jumping, but not parachutes or Bungee Cords. This can lead to some unfortunate mishaps...

Being a plastic army man has some hangups. I am a mine-sweeper, which means I am the first to get attached to fire-crackers, chewed by dogs, and lost in the dryer. At least I have

still got a face & the arm that holds the mine sweeper.Corgy's face was melted off by a sparkler & his base is missing so he can't stand,but he was still my bitch,& I was still his

His war injuries made me think about what it would be like. Armless. Footless. I started laughing. Laughing at my handicapped army man. My mom came out and said, "

I'm a lesbian, dear." I was like, no shit, Sherlock. If her penchant for flannel didn't give it away, it would be her oblivious reaction to the armless, footless - but cute man in

the vicinity of "taken" would tell all. If she slept with someone's boyfriend, she was definitely a lesbesbian. Youth culture is hypocritical like that, and I have important tasks

To think about completing. My thoughts kept drifting to the lesesbian though, she proved a lot more interesting than my taxes. Looks like i'd be putting them off another month.

Please allow me to explain that a lesesbian is like a normal lesbian with knobs on. She marched into my life and for days & nights of wine and roses--until the tax office called. I

turned her knobs down to a soupçon of a simmer, then offered to send the tax office a pound of flesh by express mail. My lover's eyes glowed. She was more than ready ...