Today, I pulled, I fink, and managed to do it without getting me knickers in a twist.
Now, unlike many women, half me age, I’m not sitting here waiting for the charmer to call. Yes we did exchange numbers, and I’m typing me blog under the duvet in case the wind and rain get an inkling as to what I been up to. The only thing I know, for certain, is that he’s, allegedly, good with his hands and must be over the age of consent as he has a driving licence. Phew!
So now I’m a pondering, should he pop by for a brew…
Am I expected to put meself on the sizzle block: before, after, or whilst the kettle is whistling to boiling point?