Hotpot

I knew I’d spelt it incorrectly. I did it on purpose so as not to show you up. Except I didn’t, and it was a horrific accident. Much like a car smash up on the A55. I’m eating our samosas from last night’s Chinese. They’re delicious, but I’m rather jealous of your hotpot. Maz saw the new photo I have of you on my desk earlier and said you look like Colin Farrell. Gareth said not to tellyou this as you’d be upset, but we all know I tell you everything. Which is why I’m not scared to tell you the fact that I corrected Maz and said you looked like a goblin in real life. See, people? Honesty is the key to a good relationship. And Tom and I have a great one, don’t we, dear? I love you. Can’t wait to see you later and smother you with cuddles – it’s jolly fricken’ cold out today! Doug and I just got rained on outside. I may need a coffee. Loooooooooove in bundles and bundles and BUNDLES! Seven sleeps til Mini Christmas! xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

mmmmmm…lamb hot pot, that sounds nice. we should do more hot pot-type things at the restaurant, but all we do is corned beef with cabbage and potatoes. that’s not really a hot pot, though. aaaaaaaanyway, hope you’re having a nice today over there so far. have uber-fun with your Kate on your Mini-Christmas! *peace signs and smiley faces*

Ohh baby I’m t’inkin’ about your chocolate…

You were BOTH online? BOTH AND STILL NO ONE INFORMS ME! *wails* You don’t like me any more do you? *lisps* Ok I will write another “Why Tom is a legend” entry. Wankspanner. Lee Mee xXx

I mentioned you in my entry Dedication. And the Kate too. But Kate more because I like her more! Lee Mee xXx

And lo she smote Tom upon his hairy swonnicles with a squarrot and a pirrel. And invited the anarchists for tea and cake.

And lo, did the peasants rejoice whenst uponst their squirrels came a holy and delicious chocolate sauce. And the people and the badgers did feast on the chocolatey squirrels.

And lo, the children of weasels descended upon them in a fiery, furry rage, and the skies rained blood and entrails and sunflower seeds.

And the squarrots threw sunflower seeds and the pirrels nibbled upon them. And lo did they fornicate in the slushy entrail soup and create an interspecies reace known as parrots and squirrels

Yea verily, the chocolate squirrel spake unto the chocolatey skunks, and went forth rejoicing.

And lo, the squirrels were kept in cages and taught to repeat swear words for the amusement of the people, and the parrots were trained in groups of eight, to pull holiday badger sleighs.

And lo, the badgers did revolt against the men with three heads, biting them soundly on the knees until they all stumped about in pools of their own blood, at which point the badgers did defecate upon their faces and laugh in their general direction.

Yet the squirrels grew tired of their caged lives and gathered together under the moonlight to devise a scheme of dramatic proportions no badger had ever seen.

(Tom I’m scared) ahem… and lo did Susan the badger verily cometh in the face of the squirrel.

Oh what cruel sorrow, and long forgotten shit-eating grins.

And lo did Susan become known for shaving her fur and being a general cock aficionado.

And lo did the squirrels forget their dramatic scheme and become extremely interested in Susan the badger.

And lo, did Susan’s ancestor’s thrive and flourish under the reign of the quite miniscule but still rather nasty Squirrel King, until the day came when the sun was shadow’d o’er and the sky rained peanut butter cups.

Wait…why couldn’t the sky rain lemon drops and gum drops?

I like peanut butter cups. They’re like tiny glistening nutty nipples.

moongate, please, this is serious.

Because I said so, damn it.

*spits out reeses cup immediately*

Lianne has peanut butter c-cups. Susan is jealous.

*has a storm in her D-cup*

BWAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! My evil plan is working perfectly! *hoards the nutty nipples*

MY breasts are glorious. Susan’s are rough and hairy.

I feel Susan’s pain. AND NOTHING ELSE.

*hands Susan some Nair and an Epilady*

My breasts are exquisite, rare miniatures. That’s not what Susan said, The Ensor.

She told me that you feasted upon them. And plucked the hairs from your teeth

My breasts are becoming quite a handful.

I did partake of the peanut butter cups. Though, let’s be honest, Susan… neither of us should use the word “feast”.

Yes after all they do not cover all the food groups

And lo, temmahkrik did grow weary of the festivities and left to try to score a ride home from a sober chipmunk.

*researches the five essential fat groups*

There are other food gropes…I mean, groups?

Did someone say gropes?

And LeeMee is going to bed. It’s 1:23 I love you Tom!

Not me.

My name isn’t Tom. Sheesh.

Gropes!? Screw you, chipmunk, I’m staying!

And lo, did Temmy get a ride home with Simon, since Alvin and Theodore were drunk off their nuts. And lo, did Tway-tway cup her cup-cups and mug for the camera. And lo, did Moongate bumble and bobble the Fingal dopple. And lo, did Lianne cover her body with the various food groups and serve as a sumptuous buffet.

And lo, did Ensor get far too excited… about Fingalling the Dopple.

One day we will laugh about this my darling Tom

Good night, Baltimore. Cheap Trick says good night!

My name isn’t Cheap Trick. Sheesh.