The good life

Firstly…apologies for the delay in updating 22 and on the shelf, I am sure you have all been on tenterhooks. I have been otherwise waylaid, spending my first week on the dole on a yacht in Turkey (My fears of the impending job centre confrontation subsided when I realised that my tan was more akin to one of Victoria Beckham’s Birkin bags than the dreamy olive hue I had hoped for).
I have also had to end my short lived stint as one of the 53% of scots on benefits rather abruptly as I am being paid. The highlight of my day today has been selling Mick Hucknall’s wife a picture frame.,
Anyway…back to Turkey. The boat that rocked was the theme, and I was Bowie. Of course my mother was aghast: “Darling! Why are you going as a man.” What she didn’t know was that her fears for my lesbian destiny were closer than even I knew. The boat will remain in my memory as the island in Lord of the flies, and I was piggy.
GET IT OFF! was the chant, and ‘it’ was my clothes. I knew that giving in to the swarm of harpies (and the token male with his hands down his trousers) would most likely result in shame and self flagellation the next morning. I stood my ground and at least for one night dignity was mine, it was the oestrogen fuelled perpetrators who were followed by the infamous shame the dog…