My tweed waterbed is the centrepiece of my

My tweed waterbed is the centrepiece of my boudoir. I use it to seduce outdoor types such as gamekeepers, assistant gamekeepers, gamekeepers mates and environmentalists. Rough twee

d chafes, but rugged outdoor types regard their tweed burned bums as a badge of honor. In fact I keep a basket of cockles & fresh nettle leaves by my tweed waterbeds side table

to deal with the constant rashes. I can tell that I'm doing the right thing because the crystal that my soul doctor has me rub is staying the right shade of pink. Of course I don't

he told me I could use it to purify drinking water. And cook pizza. And make shrinky-dink keychains! I wasn't sure if that made it worth $500, but I still needed a pregnancy test,

or a new pair of running shoes to out run my parents if the found out that I was knocked up, again. It would help if I wasn't addicted to Professor Drinkingstein's hypnotherapy. He

had a voice like cognac and I could drink it in all night. I guess that's how I would up pregnant in the first place. But now that I'm a girl in trouble Dr. Drinkingstein has left

His business card next to the glogg. I made an appointment for next week, the earliest date. By then, I am supposed to have polished off half the glogg. Shark Lady stopped by too.

She brought sad news about the Land Sharks. They had finally retreated, completely, to the Western Oceans and the beach front lifestyle. The price of glogg was expected to follow

the Mulled Wine decline: almonds and raisin prices were sky-high all over, but especially at the Western Oceans Beach Front, but the Land Sharks didn’t care: they hated glogg.