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Rather surprisingly, I got to see a doctor this morning, and I had an x-ray. Results of that next week, and meanwhile, a prescription for painkillers. So that's me trying to improve my thalidomide victim, broken self.

Rod has decided in his great wisdom that I am too old and too fat for a vintage wedding dress. Forgetting that he's the same age as me, and less than 2 kilos lighter. And that he dropped me of at the shop yesterday morning - to have a vintage dress altered. And that nobody's paying £150 an hour to wash his knickers. But he reckons, back in the day, there were no brides of my size. He's clueless of course. And charming! He's apologised, but it'd be more useful if he didn't feel the need to blurt his hurtful insults out of course, but he doesn't seem able to moderate anything at all unfortunately.

Work going splendidly. August, which is usually a sluggish sluggy thing, has been pretty zippy!

Ebay bally marvellous, hup hup!

Ladies tonight, yip yip! I need some light relief!

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maitressep
Call me Madam

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