Naughty Letters to Ms. Mac

Countless noble souls (and many fluffy kittens) sacrificed their lives during the making of this blog. We think you will agree they were worth it.

Thursday, January 10, 2008

Thrustday Firsties

Dearest Lovely, If Rather Remote, Ms. Mac,

NEWSFLASH: I got groped by my doctor (my real doctor) yesterday! I hope that’s got you choking on your cornflakes & haggis.

Well okay, it was more of an affectionate caress than a pervy grope, but still! He’s a lovely man, I’ve known him for years and he’s seen me through some baaaad times. He always gives me a kind of clumsy half-hug at the end of every appointment (which is very un-French), and I’ve always assumed it’s because he’s relieved that I’m still alive, kicking and relatively (!) sane.

But yesterday, when I asked him to check my donkey’s bollock-sized tonsils, he looked down my throat and then had a good old feel of the glands below my ears with his nice warm hands. He then administered a kind of gentle caress down both sides of my neck, in a friendly way, to punctuate the end of the examination. It was lovely. If I didn’t like him so much I suppose I’d have to lay a complaint of sexual harassment or improper conduct, wouldn’t I?

So I regret to inform you, Dearest Dr. Ms. Mac, that I no longer require your services. You are hereby fired. You never gave me naughty little massages anyway, did you?

In other news, the Committee Meeting of the Ballet School was three hours of bureaucratic boredom. I came away with two massive ring-binders (tee hee! I said ring!) of 150 enrolment forms and am now responsible for collecting the fees for the second term. On the plus side, I have been invited to receive the Mayor’s Best Wishes For The New Year ceremony. On the minus side, it’s on Sunday morning. On the plus side, it will inevitably involve some kind of apéritif or other French drinkies. So it’s all good really.

How was your Wednesday? A bit lack-lustre, I imagine, as I was not glued to my computer, sending you words of wisdom and naughty thoughts all day. But I suppose you survived?

Hot lovin’ and nice kisses,



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