Ainslie Henderson
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1/20/2008 3:42:24 AM
Britneys puss Britneys puss.
i'm tired of this silence and i want to talk now. the nice thing about having flat mates is they form a middle ground between going out, being with people and being sociable and going to bed. neither of which i really want tonight, i'm in the mood for flat mate company. hence my disappointment in getting home and finding both of them in bed. i live with two girls and we seem to have grown into a fairly harmonious family. i'm rarely here, and i'm sure this doesn't completely excuse the lack of cleaning i do, but it helps a bit. as i say, we're close, but not close enough that if i was to knock on one of their doors now and say 'please get up and drink tea with me', they wouldn't tell me to piss off. one of them has had a bath tonight ,so the flat smells of girls. this is also a nice thing about living with girls. girls smell nice. smelling the flat after one of them has had a bath is about as sexy as things get for me at the moment ,outside of my imagination. and a long distance longing. i can be such a boy. sometimes, i have a bath after one of them, and there's still a bit of the oil coating the tub, and it gets caught up in my bath. and i'm grateful for it. any spare change?, and spare bath oil? i used to make garlic bread, and i'd mix the butter and garlic in a bowl and my flat mate at the time would complain about her corn flakes tasting of garlic in the morning. we have a game going here at them moment, it's a game that goes on, entwined, alongside our lives, it's called 'Britney's puss', we have this picture of Britney spears face that one of us cut out of a magazine, one of the tragic ones of her spotty and girning and grappling with a dog or a child and a starbucks cup. you have to stick it somewhere in the communal living area, in the fridge, on the ceiling, inside one of the tear open doors of the advent calender, thats the fun, it can be somewhere really obvious where someone is bound to find it, or some where a bit more remote, so it can sit for weeks until, often in mid conversation one of us will glance it, then we all get to run around cheering and dancing 'Britney's puss! Britney's puss!.'. idle childish fun. how i'm going to miss this flat and these fine smelling flat mates.
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Jillidom
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1/20/2008 4:07:10 AM
I can identify with your game Ainsley, although the focus of our fun is even more groteque...a little pot gnome which moves around. Sometimes it will be days before he's spotted, up a tree, floating in the fish pond, in the bird table up to his neck in earth or peeping down from the porch roof :) Maxi
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Pat Softly
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1/20/2008 5:45:17 AM
It's a bit of a tradition here in Oz for surfers heading north to the big surf to kidnap a garden gnome from a suburban garden, take him with them, send back photos of him lounging on the beach with bikini-clad babes to his distraught owners, and then return him to his garden in the dead of night some weeks later.
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Monkey68
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1/20/2008 5:59:42 AM
Good odours neutralise the bad, Britney's puss obliterates an otherwise dull moment, our yin becomes another's yang. Don't be too lonely, my friend, we're all still here.
Vince (Monkey68)
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1/20/2008 7:10:45 AM
Ainslie,
I probably didn't understand what you were trying to say. Unfortunately that happens alot with me! I'm sure there was something far more profound with your story! As for my other messages take them with a grain of salt from a guy who thinks he lives in New Babylon!
Sincerely, God Bless and good luck!
WJU
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