You Might Want To Re-Book Your Toenail Cutting Appointment After All

Dearest Darls,

The Lovely Maureen and I are in a joint wee tizzy. She posted me the Madonna tix last Monday (insured, registered, with computer surveillance, tracker dogs and requiring my signature upon receipt).

La Poste in my village has confirmed this morning that nothing has come to them yet, so Maureen is checking with La Poste in her village to see if they have actually left the vicinity yet, or if their postie sat down for a coffee break sometime and hasn't got up again.

I am working tomorrow so can be here in the office for the postie if he comes, but if the tix don't arrive until Saturday morning I will likely miss the postie. He will then leave a coupon in the office letter box to say "Hello motherfucker! I called with your Madonna tix, but you weren't here! Sorreee, but you can pick them up on Monday...."


Of course I could spend my Saturday morning hanging out in an empty office, waiting for the postie, instead of cooking up a storm of tempting delicacies for you in my kitchen as planned.

At least Darls, if the tix really do go missing for ever, we can still have fun in Paris on Saturday night, sitting in the gutter outside the Stade de France and swiggin' vodka from a bottle in a brown paper bag, right?

At the very least, we'll get a good blog post out of it, right?

Chewed-fingernail love and stressed-out kisses,

Antipo

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx