Virtual Strangers Read Online Free PDF Page A

professional woman, she always had to be nice to people in the morning. Yes, really . Like I just say ‘Wanna house, do you? Well tough! Fuck off!’ Seems she is going to be right up there with Davina in the baggage department. Speaking of which, I have to report a distressing development at work. Walked into the staff room yesterday and came upon Hugh Chatsworth (no. 6, remember?) in the middle of changing his shirt. (He has perspiration difficulties, apparently). And guess what? He has nipple rings! Yes, ring- s . Times two. Which he holds in place under his shirt with two Mr Men plasters. (So as not to alarm elderly householders, presumably. Or would it be to do with electrical activity?). Anyway, so he’s gay as well. Though of course he could just be one of those fetishist guys who go to clubs where they put each other on leads and wear spikes round their necks etc. But, well, yuk.
    Charliexx
    PS Have to accept Stableford’s party invitation now anyway as Ben is suffering (sic) a major hormone eruption, and has confessed to a friendship (sic) with Francesca Stableford of a type which obviously does not include the swapping of Nintendo games or going into town and playing on the escalators/telephoning people called Smellie and saying poo. And does include a fair amount of being holed up in his room, and sitting in bed looking shifty. A Development, eh? In fact, the development. And I’m so touched that he felt able to share all this with me (rather than looking furtive and saying ‘yeah, whatever’ etc.) that I can hardly bring myself to change his sheets - because then he’ll realise I might have seen something he’d find it excruciatingly embarrassing to have to think about the fact of me seeing and so on, that I want to spare him the discomfort. Perhaps I’ll just leave a clean sheet folded on the end of the bed from now on. Ha! You have all this to come!
    PPS Talking of perspiration, I heard on the radio today that most roll-on antiperspirants leave a white residue that shows up under ultra-violet light and can be the cause of much embarrassment to young girls out clubbing. For some reason, I found that immensely funny. What a sad, strange little woman I am.
    PPPS Oh, yes! And green! You would not believe the new Willie JJ makeover. We have had a visitation from the aptly named Ianthe (see below) who is clearly Cardiff’s answer to Conran, and whose (obviously covert) brief it has been to makeover Willie JJ, not as a go-ahead service sector business, but in the style, it would appear, of amphibious life (Ianthe was a Greek sea nymph - so it figures.). The uniform is so utterly grotesque I cannot even begin to describe it. I shall have to send you a photo. Suffice to say, it is green (think distemper. Think stagnant pond) and to reflect (I quote) the essence of the main corporate tenets (which are independence, one-to-one service and commitment to the environment, apparently) it incorporates a cut away half oak leaf motif on each lapel which, when the jacket is done up form a sort of oakey montage. And it’s all pulled together by a monster chartreuse and khaki bow. I don’t know how much the whole package cost them but they’ve been had, big time, I can tell you. The woman must be coining it in.
    Charliexx
    Monday. AM.
    A dreadful, dreadful start to the morning, as I had a major panic re. possible untimely menopausal symptoms. Though they were largely allayed by the realisation that a) the colour of my face was a direct result of my proximity to the new Willie JJ attire and b) the thermostat had been interfered with by my father (bringing the whole house to the temperature of a robust Finnish sauna). Was plunged, nevertheless, into a minor depression, as I couldn’t stop thinking that the whole sweaty, unpredictable yukkiness of it all, was, in reality, probably less than a decade away anyway. And I have not achieved one fifth of the plane fare to Nepal, or got so much as an MFI kitchen catalogue