|Remember, kids, women are only ever disappointed in the|
bedroom and then look constipated.
Also, work was fun, but high-adrenaline and high-stress. I know I like that, but it does mean I am unable to carry out everything I would like to have done. Meh.
|Three bloody units? Ouch. Worth it though.|
And my arm, the one with the balloon hand from a sporting injury, has started going cold and numb if I bend it for long periods. This is not good. I suspect bone fragments trapping nerves and/or veins. I ought to get me to an A&E department (or something) to see if something can be done. But a cast will mean I can't get to work... Oh, and my car has been recalled, I really ought to have that seen to as well. And shelves. Tilly has acquired shelves and is struggling to find a space for them to go as they need to go up this weekend. This relayed about two hours ago. O-kay. Right.
I had a beer, I'd care but I don't.
In the saga of the sexless marriage we may see action tomorrow and we may not. Yay for sex maps? Probably not. I don't even know what I actually want, what is just fantasy and what might get me divorced.
Have a gay love song twixt Eminem and Dr Dre from 2011.