I'M A LAYDEE

I am loving my new life on the net. I’ve set up camp at a desk in my funny room with full view of all my neighbours. Nothing doing at the moment. I’ve attempted to download MSN Messenger and am adding my favourite tracks to i-tunes as I type. I even tried to download a Podcast but got a bit bored in the middle of that.

Saturday was a write off. It’s was my good friend Lisa’s birthday on Friday. Lisa is grooming me in the art of being a ladee , shaving legs, wearing skirts, showing body, getting hair cut etc etc. She never pushes me too far and completely understands that going for coffee and cake on a Saturday afternoon is just alien to me.

As part of my training I cannot reveal her age as this is unacceptable. I also have to stop saying “I’m old”. Lisa spolit me rotten on my birthday and I feel under pressure to show her a good time. So, I take her to bingo. Te he. But she loves it and we have a ball and come within 2 numbers of winning. We go back to hers for ladee training and talk and play cards all night. I have a few ladette skills of my own to share. She lives high up on a hill with the most fantastic panoramic view through her living room bay windows. Very jealous that we could watch the most amazing view of the sunrise. The Government promised heatwave is still here. Well, it was yesterday.

She is determined to beat me at a game of Skipbo and in order for this to happen we have to play for 5 hours straight. Finally she wins at 9am and as a reward I send her out to buy vodka. Alas, she comes back with a dodgy brand and the night is over. Waking from a slumber at 11am we realise with horror that we have been keeping card scores on her signed poster from a birthday trip to the theatre. We eat chips, make futile attempts at conversation and I finally get enough energy to leave 3ish. I return home to rest on the couch. It’s was so different at 4am when we were congratulating ourselves on having spent a weekend in Ibiza last month where we danced all night at Manumission and then Pacha.