Hickies and flicking the v’s

Aging is a terrible curse. It doesn’t matter how many pro-age Dove adverts I watch I’m not convinced that wrinkles are fit. even if they are happy wrinkles (which by the way are the ones I’m working on – if I’m going to get wrinkles they might as well be cheerful smile lines than miserable frown lines.At the moment Frowns are beating Smiles 2- 1)
I have one annoying hair growing out of my neck that I didn’t used to have. I pluck it out but as soon as it starts to grow back again I can feel it, because it’s like a cactus spike sticking out of my throat. Last night I sat watching Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip and pulled every hair out of that section of my neck except the short spiky one. It’s too short to get a grip on and almost to short to see, but it’s long enough to feel. Extremely annoying.
I went to bed.
When I woke up this morning I had a massive mark right in the middle of my throat like a flipping hicky. A hicky with a hair growing out of it. How attractive am I?

Last week I was at Asda (is there a day that passes without me paying a visit to Fleetwood’s most exciting attraction?) with my sister. While I was reversing out of the car park, the guy parked opposite me started reversing at the same time. We both saw each other at the same time, stopped at the same time and avoided a bump.
The guy driving pulled out and away, but only a few yards, where he sat waiting for me in a peak of car park rage. So I sat and waited where I was, listening to my sister going through what she’d say to him if he came and had a go at us. Then he drove off.
As we drove home along the promenade, beautiful view of the Lake District and Morecambe Bay to our right, I re-enacted exactly what I wouldn’t do if I didn’t want to get hit in a road rage incident. I ranted and raved and then flicked the v’s at my sister, just as I drove past a girl I used to go to school with, and who goes to my church, out walking her dog. It clearly looked like I had seen her and decided to express my contempt (which by the way I don’t feel) for her.
O dear.


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