We should be allowed to dream….
Yes, it’s true, these boys are in fact terribly British. They see a queue- it must be joined. They drink tea and nibble biscuits. Boots reads his broadsheets every Sunday. Confused? Many still try to get their heads around Wuss ‘n Boots. Are they pet cats? They claim the fact they are cats is irrelevant, […]
So I confess. I am terrible at spelling. I know. You would think I was great at everything I do, which is generally the case, but the arrangement of letters in the correct order within a word seems to escape me. And anything I suffer, my boys suffer also. To be fair the word genius […]
Greetings from En-ger-land (I guess we shouldn’t mock the many hardened footie blokes who now sit weeping into their beers in the pub after the miserable defeat we suffered at the hands of the Germans, but still…it’s really quite hilarious). As you may guess, Wuss, Boots and myself detest football. However, they do love certain […]
The boys have informed me (as the demanding English divas they most certainly are) that they are ready to knock your socks off come Sunday. In fact, not just your socks, your entire collective arrangement of clothing, accessories included. Perhaps wear sturdy underwear? Or ensure you’re well preened for nudity. More teasing posts to come soon […]