"Nae servants." So he asks for a candle.
And thus the line passed into my consciousness and is forever completely decontextualised and applied seemingly at random. Michael Caine was in it.
|It's a Sinnlig. Strawberry.|
I got a lavender one as well, because, you
know, fuck it.
Fuck it, thought I, and I've had a candle lit when I've been marking lately. Rose downstairs and now the strawberry one (I'm not as much of a fan of the rose ones, but Tilly has a rose obsession) upstairs. So, quite the opposite of 'nae candles' it would appear.
Normal, heterosexual, white, cis-gendered, middle-class,
sex. So, normal. Right?
Kinsey reckons 30-39 year olds have sex 89 times a year.
Holy shit! 89 times! I don't think Tilly and I have had sex
that many times since we met.
|Yeah, I could dig it.|
It's not as nice as some of the rooms in my local IKEA,
but then those aren't as nice as the ones that were in
my previously local IKEA.