I promised to return in an hour to give you tales from a lesbo's life. It's been almost 3 now and I'm just here, with lots to tell you but with no time in which to do so. The reasons for this are simple. SImple and unimportant but I will tell you that I do have a bit of flu. I don't want sympathy but any you want to give would be good. You can imagine how I felt when I had to go collect a dog from the kennels just an hour ago, to be faced with lots of pretty dogs and heaps of smelly poo and pee. Not to worry though, I'm sure a few early nights and no alcohol will cure me nicely, as will plenty of hugs and masses of sugary tea. All that sugar can't be good. The only reading material I have in my possession right now is that lesbian porn. I may flick through it and see if those open gashes can cure me of my illness. I would read all the delightful stories written by the 'real lesbians' themselves but there is only one. I much prefer a story to the pictures so I'm quite devastated that the only story is one about a teenage lesbo getting it on with her mate... pretty decent so far you may think but not when it takes the double page to build up to their first snog. That's not porn, that's just filling 2 pages cos there wasn't enough ugly women to fill the magazine with. OH but I forgot to mention that in the centre pages there's a great picture of Mandy and Clare for my wall. OH my mother will be so proud.
I'm away to drink tea and think about something that's not filled with chicks and short perms.