ME Magic FACE

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Quit smoking things

I have a friend, we'll not name him/her/it because she might not like it, but needless to say they know who they are. So, anyway, she's always walking along with me, then reaching down and picking up old cigarette buts, striking a match off her stubble strewn cheek and lighting the butt, like she was in a movie about cowboys or crack-addicts. Glasgow just isn't the place to be doing this. There are half naked dead bodies in ponds. If you do that kind of thing the police might very well pick you up and put you in the slammer.

Today I've read too much and written not enough. I feel terribly guilty.

'Do something about it then!' I hear my mother saying. She always knew what to say.

Must-I xxx

Tell you What. I'll make dinner, isit?

So, I came back home today to find some clues strewn about my flat. I think there might be someone else living here when I'm not. I go out to buy milk, I come back and someone's been to the toilet, left me a little present. I go out for a drink on Friday and I wake up the next day to find a prune on the pillow next to me. A little present from an in-house admirer perhaps, or a deadly warning not to go out any more. I've decided to set up boobie traps around the flat. They consist of a human hair stuck across the cupboard doors so that I know if someone's been in them because the hair will have dropped to the floor.
I'm waiting to see what happens.
M xx