*arrives back from long boozy lunch with friends, nods to chumasterp, and reclines on chaise lounge to snooze*
*thinks to self "this is mental, I can think out loud in the quiet room and it won't disturb anyone. I wonder if any of them fancy a pint tonight in the real world? Anyway, that's enough talking to myself, time to snooooozzzz..."*
*opens one eye, peers with some malevolence at the loud thinker over in the corner, closes eye, resumes previous supine position and returns to slumbering behind a copy of a newspaper that might rustle, should it move, but that does not move, not even a little bit, no matter how long you sit and stare at it in the conviction that it must, soon, surely, fall to the floor*
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit was 2007:03:09:15:46:43 by Ant.
.............lounging sans enfants. Closes laptop gently. Corrects seam on the back of silk stocking. Admires red everlasting nail polish from Nails inc. Sighs......... wonders when Mr Batdog will turn up.
Smiles seductively at Mr Mikewbate, stands up for a stretch - knocks over Mr Joe likes dinner's copy of The Spectator....... exposing his copy of 'The Joy of Sex'. Blushes, picks up enormous handbag and leaves.........
*crunch of ryvita and beef shudders through heart - what! 4 30! i've missed lunch - heart begins to race and breaks into nervous sweat*
*ah, whats this? DM's finally stopped tippy tapping on the bloody laptop only to throw the house copies of the joy of sex and the Spectator at myself and mikewbate and seems to have stolen cushion from young chumasterp mistaking it for her handbag. No surprise, the saucy content of the Spec is enough to put even the most gentile of lady folk in a fluster.*
*looks around the room as many consider the content of DM's forgotten handbag.. odds on, batdog lives in there, not heard from him in a while*
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit was 2007:03:09:17:01:25 by Joe likes dinner.