If pigs could fly
I’d let out a sigh
I don’t care how lucky it would be
Please don’t drop one on me!
Miss Cecile has got me a pondering, and pondering is what I like to do around here. Putting aside the gorgeous delights flexing their gelled hairlines over on her uncensored pages, if you could have a fanciful wish, or two, what would you wish for?
Ho hum, I know, it’s a real toughie not asking for world peace, at times like this, but that would require all the politicians in the world to go on an advanced intensive diplomatic training course. The cost couldn’t be justified against their qualifications and experience, anyway, but I was thinking of summit nice. The cream on the scone, so to speak, more than the baked necessities of life that never seem to turn out quite right.
So, seeing as I can’t turn the clock back, and I have to put up with me older and less agile self, me thinks I’d wish for someone inappropriate and agile to help me with the little things I hate doing on me own.
