All posts in category: Sex

Have you got your Easter Bonnet ready?

March 28, 2021
Entertainment/Media/Arts Food & Drink Sex
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Why...

Do certain holiday traditions fill me with dread... or make me laugh like a hyena.

Easter is a weird holiday. Firstly you never know when it is. Easter Sunday is something to do with a full moon after another date that for me always has the whiff of the werewolf about it. Certainly it’s pagan.

From the Christian point of view it’s ultimately about rebirth but it starts with a pretty grim death. Yet in public lore it seems more to centre on chocolate eggs and hats only someone with a strong neck like Mike Tyson can wear.

And bunnies. How does a bunny get tied to an egg? Maybe David Attenborough can help?

Ozzies hate the bunnies the British introduced and would rather stick needles in their eyes than celebrate them. They have chocolate bilby instead; the bilby being their indigenous rodent and looking like a cross between Pinocchio’s nose and a hare.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

My new travel agent

March 14, 2021
Entertainment/Media/Arts Food & Drink Sex Travel/Nature
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Why...

Has my TV and cable remote turned into TripAdvisor?

Having run the gamut of US and UK located shows I have started choosing my televisual feasts on where I fancy visiting or want to return to now that lockdown is giving me island fever here in Malta. I have not set off the rock for over a year and though a lovely place it’s so small you could carpet it in an afternoon.

The Serpent gave me a decent dose of Thailand, Nepal and India. My sister is so ancient she can remember the rumours of a serial killer praying on backpackers in the 1960s in Asia.

Yearning for a bit of ice and snow I watched the thriller Cardinal, set in Algonquin. Not the hotel in New York where Dorothy Parker held court with such gems as “Every morning I brush my teeth and sharpen my tongue” or “beauty is only skin deep but ugly goes to the bone”, but some snow hole north of Toronto where a serial killer was plying his trade.

Next I hopped over to the beaches of Sydney for Deep Waters followed by the anodyne surroundings of Canberra in Secret City, Australia’s own House of Cards.

To add to the feeling of local immersion, these shows have to be binge watched, accompanied by meals and booze from the country of the series. So possum burgers and Bundaberg Rum for Oz, Moose Lager and maple syrup pancakes for Canada and chilly Mo-Mo washed down with Tongba for Nepal. (Look it up). No wonder my diet isn’t working. Maybe I need to watch more shows from Japan or other low fat diet countries.

In fact maybe TV watching can be part of a diet?!

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

2021 Summer Holidays... Club 18-30 will be empty. It’s going to be all oldies

March 7, 2021
Friends Kids/Family/Relations Sex Travel/Nature
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Why...

Will all the nightclubs this summer be full of Old Age Pensioners?

Amid all this rushing to get anyone in touching distance of being old injected against Covid, we will have left the younger generation alone.

“They’re not at risk. They can wait.”

Maybe...

I have to assume that this summer no one is going to be able to venture overseas without proof of inoculation. Come forward most people over 55. What about the sex mad twenty somethings, a significant percentage of whom enjoy rumpy-pumpy 24 hours after landing on foreign shores! They are going nowhere. No inoculation, no overseas travel.

An entire generation will sit at home watching their parents and grandparents all dressed up in sombreros and sandals, off to the Continent to drown in Sangria, Mai Tai’s and Ambre Solaire.

On the Costa del Sol a backpacker is going to be as rare as a redneck with a full set off teeth. The whole vibe of this summer in Europe will change.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Tokyo Olympics... wanna bet?

Why...

Are we fooling ourselves the 2020 Olympics will take place in 2021. If you asked a four year old what they thought about flying people in from every country on earth to mix in essentially one location, you would be met with Greta Thunberg-like incredulity. I am happy to stick my neck out and say there is more chance of finding a tap dancing oyster than there is of watching a medal ceremony this summer.

Although as a youth I showed all the athletic ability of a mollusc, I have real sympathy for Olympic Athletes. You get a crack at glory every four years, but in my mind it looks pretty certain the gap will be eight years this time. That’s a lifetime as an athlete.

The Japanese Olympic committee seem to occupy some male dystopian NeverNeverLand where what they say goes, no matter the evidence. To them the Games are as certain to accompany this summer as raw fish is accompanied by rice.

To compound how out of touch our Japanese friends are, they recently announced they would NOT extend the female representation on their Olympic board to 40%, because women talk too much in committee meetings! Sad, as maybe they could talk some sense into these misogynistic blazer wearing dinosaurs.

At best you might allow athletes who have had a jab, but that of course would punish the poorer nations... and Russia whose inoculation is as close to those that actually work as their Tupolev TU-144 (Concordski) was to Concorde.

To be honest, I still cannot make out if the Russians would have been allowed to participate anyway!

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Why are super strength bin liners as thin as a condom and with all the strength of wet rice paper?

Why...

Are bin liners so weak?

Every pack of bin liners my wife buys has packaging screaming, super strong, extra strength, tear proof. The Superman of black bags... yet unravel the roll and instead you get an anaemic Clarke Kent sack that will tear if you fill it with only cotton candy.

I assume ‘normal’ strength bags are so fragile they are only suitable to stick wishes and dreams into.

Is there no scale of strength for refuse bags? A minimum level of actually being able to hold something heavier than a ping pong ball?

There you go EU bureaucrats! Do something more useful than determining the curvature of a banana and give minimum strength requirements to bin bags.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Do I get loyalty points if I have to quarantine for two weeks in a hotel?

February 7, 2021
Fasion Health & Beauty Kids/Family/Relations Sex Sport Work
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Why...

Not get some benefit from being locked in a gilded cage for a fortnight?

Now I understand many of you might think two weeks in quarantine in a Premier Inn in Wigan might just be a first world complaint. However, that will only be from people who have never experienced a wet Wednesday in Wigan in February. For those who have, it’s the closet thing to purgatory outside of having to watch endless repeats of the Wheel of Fortune with someone who constantly shouts out the wrong answers.

It troubles me that you can tip out of your first class seat at Heathrow and end up locked in some orange and beige nightmare in Brentford for two weeks instead of your normal sojourn at The Ritz. I hear the allocation of the actual quarantine hotel is luck of the draw. That clearly can not be true. There must be a fiddle somewhere. I just don’t believe you might end up in a magnificent palace with a suite large enough to have a croquet tournament or a hutch so small a mouse with a hard on could not turn around. Does anyone have the skinny on how to get a decent allocation?

And what do you do for two weeks? Do you end up tapping morse code on the walls with your jailed neighbour? Maybe fling open the curtains and scream out the window like Peter Finch in Network, “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take this anymore.” Or would that mean the boys in blue come around and lock you in an even tinier cell instead?

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

It’s a passport photo, not a Henri Cartier Bresson portrait

January 24, 2021
Fasion Health & Beauty Sex Travel/Nature
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Why...

Do we go care so much about our passport photographs? It’s not as if we expect to go on a date with a Custom’s Officer? A dear late friend of mine was a wildly successful manager of Rock and Pop Stars. He got a call one day from a world famous client who was performing at Wembley and due to fly out and perform three days later at the Olympic Stadium in Berlin. His passport had expired so my friend went to his London home, picked up the passport and went to Petit France (where passports were renewed in those days) and due to the fame of his client managed to get a new passport. Two days later he got a furious call from his famous client saying he would not be going to Berlin as he hated the photo his agent had selected in the new passport. He refused to use that passport and had it incinerated. Concert was postponed! And no, I am not saying who this was! In our new COVID world you can renew a passport online with an I-phone photo. Let me just say my wife was extremely upset at the photo I took of her recently for her new passport. “Darling, you are an eternal beauty. But it’s flat lighting, a head on shot against a white background, blank expression, hair pulled back... so the odd wrinkle might show.” She was still not happy. “The only person ever to see it will be an overweight Immigration officer with halitosis that could strip paint and a probably unhealthy desire to give you an “internal” search. My recommendation is to look as appealing as roast pangolin served by a waiter with a cough.” That worked.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Not only is diet a four letter word, but Darwin was a lying bast*rd

January 17, 2021
Animals/Pets Fasion Health & Beauty Food & Drink Kids/Family/Relations Sex
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Why...

Do foods I like to eat mean I have to diet? My wife has read me the riot act after indulging in too much Christmas pudding and Port. This is where I have a disagreement with Charles Darwin whilst floating around the Pacific in HMS Beagle. He had his Eureka! moment looking at finches in the Galapagos and noticing different beaks for different foods on different islands. “Aha,” he cried. “We evolve with our surroundings; especially with regards to eating specific foods.” If, as a species, our diet evolves with our surroundings, surely the fact that I prefer the taste of a Jelly Baby to that of a raw carrot means my body, via evolution, adapts to the candy? But no. My body apparently directly challenges my taste buds. “Jelly baby, No. Carrot, Yes.” On the other hand if my eating habits were purely hereditary rather than evolutionary surely I would be turning up my nose at a fillet steak or coq au vin whilst longing for a Tyrannosaurus Rex cutlet or Mammoth Osso Buco ? I prefer to think that evolution will catch up. Mac and cheese followed by peach cobbler and ice cream will hopefully do me or at least future generations, far more good than artichoke hearts and a tofu sausage. Mother Nature implants desire into us for our own good. Humans are sex mad to keep up procreation. Therefore, there must be a method behind me salivating at the smell of frying bacon or going weak at the knees at the sight of a chocolate eclair!

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Next up Jane Bond or In-Diana Jones...

Why...

The fuss about gender change in the creative process? So Dr. Who is now a woman. Who-hoo! But the Doctor is not a human anyway? Time Lord, Time Lady... all a bit vague so I think it's a great idea, as did Dr. Who co-creator Sydney Neumann back in the 1980s who suggested it to the BBC (They rejected it)! But now there are calls for Jane Bond, Jolanda Bourne, even In-Diana Jones. No no no no no! These characters are as male as much as Lisabeth Salander (Dragon Tattoo) Katniss Everdeen (Hunger Games) and Celie (Colour Purple) are female. The lunatic who thinks altering the author's original vision is their prerogative is at best wholly presumptive and at worst insulting to the creative process. As always the cries for these changes are emitted by mental pipsqueaks with all the creative talent of a mollusk. If they are so keen to see changes, go create something; don't stand at the sidelines picking at other people's work. I already blogged about the lunacy of PC titles for books (http://www.andanotherthing.com/when-did-you-last-read-the-dark-nag) but changing the sex, colour, nationality, religion or race of a lead literary character to suit the mood of the day is so short sighted as to make Mr. Magoo have the vision of an eagle. Creative work needs to be seen in the context of when it was written as well as the time it was written about. Should we remove slavery from Gone with the Wind or short people from Gulliver's Travels and Snow White? Does Mr. McGregor threatening to put Peter Rabbit in a pie upset the Vegans? In Jack and The Beanstalk, "Fee, fye, foo, fum I smell the aftershave on an Englishman" just does not cut if for me. I know… let's remake Guess who's coming to Dinner… yup, with a Transgender.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

So bad they named it twice

September 6, 2020
Entertainment/Media/Arts Kids/Family/Relations Sex Technology
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Why...

Do drug companies give their products not one but two instantly forgettable names? Is this because they all themselves have multiple names. GlaxoSmithKline, F. Hoffmann-La Roche or the puzzling Johnson & Johnson. Were they twins? Take statins? I do. Everyday. Lowers cholesterol and good for your heart. The actual name for mine is Rosuvastatin. Sounds like a Russian spy. However they sell it under the name brand Crestor. Why? It is confusing for me and plain difficult to remember. Isn’t it a toothpaste? And as for marketing, the name Crestor does sweet F.A. in telling me what it does. How about Heart-help? Ticker-tablet or Pressure buster? Same with just about any drug you can think of. Here is a list of the most common drugs with their retail name and fancy name. Levothyroxine (Synthroid) Lisinopril (Prinivil, Zestril) Gabapentin (Neurontin) Amlodipine (Norvasc) Hydrocodone/acetaminophen (Vicodin, Norco) Amoxicillin (Amoxil) Omeprazole (Prilosec) Metformin (Glucophage) Losartan (Cozaar). Unless you are actually taking them how many do you recognise or know what they treat? Yet they are sold by the gazillions! With the $€¥ billions these guys syphon off us, does their marketing department really think that unpronounceable and hard to remember names gives them gravitas and therefore the right to charge like the Light Brigade for their product! It’s loopy. I suppose Viagra comes close with association with vigour but Hard-as-rock is much better. Vicodin should be Zonked and Gabapentin Ouch-away. As for herpes busting Zovirax (real name Acyclovir) how about No-sex-just-yet.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Whatever happened to bath time?

Why...

Do I nearly always shower? A long soak in the tub comes from an era when things were less hurried. Bath time for me now evokes a period in England that is ‘mid Agatha Christie’. Milk was delivered to your door and fruit flavoured ice lollies contained no actual fruit, only additives. Women wore A line skirts and no one ever swore on TV. Any form of ablution was to be enjoyed, be it a bath full of ducks, battleships or even other playmates! And nearly always at the end of the day so you could take as long as wanted. Morning showers have sort of crept up on me as the only way to clean. I have lived for two years in this house and whose bath is a whirlpool. In that time the only things ever washed in it have been the dogs! As a kid the idea of a whirlpool bath would have offered more fun than an aircraft hanger sized slot car track. Creating bubbles without having to fart would have been nirvana; the idea it was big enough for all your friends to splash about would have been so exciting that I would have performed household chores just to be able to have a bath like that!

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

If eating food is a sport, I need to start training properly

Why...

Can I not think of a single redeeming feature of eating competitions... unless of course it’s my company’s food. There are plenty of people who can argue with some justification that tug-of-war, tiddlywinks, or Morris Dancing are sports. At least they require some skill, a smidgen of technical ability. Dare I say it, there is also some teamwork or aesthetic beauty. Apart from the hand to eye coordination of being able to stuff food into your mouth like a high speed conveyor belt, I can think of nothing that needs any special requirements... except zero common sense and a stomach capable of enlarging to the size of a mid range Buick. Let’s put aside the question of if it’s a sport. Let’s start with why is it even a pastime. The basics. Gluttony. That is the skill. That attracts a very specific individual. Certainly if you shout in their ear you might get an echo. The goal. Waste as much bad food as possible and try not to vomit. Every eating competition I have found contains junk food with more additives than a years worth of Apple I-phone updates. Competitors taste buds are not exactly refined. And as the food is cheap, so it’s easy to supply in industrial size portions. From a personal point of view I would question the word Food! I mean no one ever has a caviar or truffle eating festival otherwise I might be tempted.

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Exactly what is the definition of survival of the fittest?

Why...

Is it always portrayed in the media that only ‘Tarzans’ can survive in the post apocalyptical jungle? What exactly do people mean by survival of the fittest anyway? I am prepared to admit most of the contestants on Gladiator could run circles around me (or trapeze above me waiving a giant Q-tip trying to knock over another contestant) but how much use would they be in a post apocalyptic Armageddon? Without whitening toothpaste and an endless supply of spandex, not much. In fact the gap between dumb as dog-slobber and super smart seems to double every 5 years. Technology has made dimwits of 99% of us. I mean how many reading this actually knows how a smart phone works, yet I suspect 200 years ago, 99% of us understood how to make smoke signals. And what skills would we need to survive? I suppose that depends on the environment of survival. If it’s all 1984 or even Terminator, being a geek looks a good bet. Q rather than 007. Planet of the Apes apocalypse and I suspect being able to run fast is critical, as is having an endless supply of nuts. A post nuclear disaster, I’d suggest being a welder who can whip up a lead suit to keep radiation out is a plus or a decent cook if you have to spend eternity in a bunker.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Duck it; shot happens

Why...

Is Spellcheck watched over by some electronic Mary Poppins? If I search in Google for any number of potentially innocent things such as water sports; adult I am offered an eye-popping smorgasbord of entertainment, many of which have nothing to do with surfboarding, scuba diving or water skiing and are very rude indeed! Yet I am prevented from typing some decent Anglo Saxon swear words in a document without them getting changed or redlined. I can almost hear my iPhone nanny tutting at the vulgarity. The only alternative is to sit with Roger’s Profanisaurus (dictionary of swear words and slang) and insert (ho-ho) every rude word I can think of into to my personal dictionary so I continue to be abusive to my friends…in a language at least they understand!

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Where there’s a will, there’s a... relative

November 8, 2019
Friends Kids/Family/Relations Politics Sex Uncategorised
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Why...

Did God invent money? To keep you in touch with your children.

It’s a sad truth that money trumps politics, religion or sexual orientation as the biggest buster-upper of families.

Here I stick my hand up and admit in my own family if mention is made of wills and inheritance it’s like nails down a blackboard.

Before we get personal, let me start with the tax logic... or utter lack of it. If you’ve had your nose to the grindstone, worked hard and paid your taxes, why do you get taxed again gifting it to whomever you please. Now I know in the UK there is a daft provision that if you live for seven years after the bequeath then what you bequeath is tax free. But why? What cockamamie logic is that?

When you are on the last lap of the race of life and you need money to look after yourself and lessen the burden to others... sorry, you must give it all away to lessen the inheritance tax bill. Either you live in poverty in your last years or rely on those you gave your money too will look after you. Either has the potential for disaster.

Next. The taxman's beady little eyes are more shortsighted than a mole. They value an Estate at time of death, not at the grant of probate. Mad. Let me give a simple example. Let’s say you sadly popped your clogs before the crash of 2007 when stocks were high but your wife who achieves probate afterwards when stocks were often more than halved; she would find there was very little left after the taxman had his Jaws like bite.

Then there is probate itself. Legal constipation at its finest. Even simple probate takes a year and more complex ones taking up to five times that.

Once you have got through all this... the legal challenge. A minefield and the explosive device upon which many a family have trodden and blown themselves to smithereens.

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I want to determine Government Policy... right after I’ve tidied my room and finished my homework

Why...

Should a 16 year-old get the right to vote? Winston Churchill once said the biggest argument against democracy is to hold a five minute conversation with a voter. God knows what he would have said if confronted with an acne-infested child whose only experience of voting is on Big Brother or X factor! There is good reason to keep the vote at 18. It’s called maturity and experience. The same reason in the UK you have to be 18 to:

Buy cigarettes, rolling tobacco and cigarette papers
Buy alcoholic drinks in a pub or a bar
Buy fireworks
View, rent or buy an 18 rated film
View, rent or buy pornographic material that does not contravene UK obscenity laws
Place a bet in a betting shop or casino
Get a tattoo
Join the Army and fight in conflict
Drive a car
Fly a plane

At sixteen all you get to do legally is shag, stop going to school, and so remain an unemployable moron, and ride a moped. And now there is demand these people get to vote!? At 16 boys are just packets of testosterone ready to challenge any status quo and girls often naive romantics; both sets are naturally drawn to the idealism of socialism (often pushed by zealot teachers) without the knowledge that it has failed in just about every country to embrace it. Hence, Socialists are always eager to lower the vote to people 99.9% of whom pay no taxes and have about as much experience of the real world as Paris Hilton’s chihuahua.

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No, it’s not an illness nor a condition... it’s lack of self-control

October 18, 2019
Entertainment/Media/Arts Fasion Health & Beauty Finance/Law Kids/Family/Relations Sex Sport
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Why...

Is everything bad that happens to young people not their fault or beyond their control? However, if anything good happens, especially by blind stupid luck (yes, you lottery winners & Love Island/ Big Brother) it is all down to destiny and a well-deserved reward from society ‘for being me’... especially if I am lazy and lack a nanogramme of skill. We have created a generation that is obsessed with the self and values just existing as a reason to enjoy rewards, regardless of any talent (a bit like the succession in the monarchy....). When growing up, my generation wanted to have a talent to allow us to be an astronaut, athlete, Rock God, movie icon, Wall Street Titan or porn star. Ambition was about having talent. A recent survey showed that the most popular ambition now is to be a reality TV star; i.e. not bother with learning to fly, run, play an instrument, sing, act, count or keep a hard on for a day! Basically, you just permanently shop, make vacuous statements and put your name to a line of cosmetics to get paid buckets of money. If you have butt cheeks between which you could park a Harley Davidson, even better.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

How you treat your servants will predict how long you will live

Why...

Do we treat those who help us with such disdain? History tells us what happens. All empires fade away... usually about the time the home help gets pissed off. Take Ancient Rome. There are only so many orgies you can clean up after, a limited number of vomitorium’s you can sluice out, before even a slave decides “screw this for a game of coco, I’ve had enough”. Their debauched and jowly bosses were so far removed from the granite hard soldiers who founded Rome that sure enough, before you could say Barbarians at the gate... it all came tumbling down. And not one slave or servant shed a tear. It is in fact a little scary to note that the sudden rise in the transgender ‘population’ almost exactly coincided with the collapse of Rome, but that will be another blog.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Not only do most men not understand ‘female plumbing’ but we underestimate the vital importance of the ‘manny peddy’ at our peril.

September 13, 2019
Fasion Health & Beauty Food & Drink Life Sex
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Why...

Does nail upkeep score so high on life’s necessities for women and are just a short chore to men? During one of those lulls in a dinner party conversation after I had chatted for twenty minutes on politics, shopping, Love Island and varicose veins with the woman on my left and now waiting for a chance to break into conversation with the woman on my right, I heard the most extraordinary exchange between two women sitting opposite each other. “… Yes. Ruined it. Can you imagine?” “Oh my God. Disaster. What did you do?” “Well. I had to have a drink just to keep me from screaming and losing it. No choice. That night I had to wear closed toed shoes and came back first thing next morning before anyone could see. I mean. It was horrific.” The cause of this tale of woe was not frostbite, a malignant verruca or even an in-growing toenail. The nail varnish that had been so lovingly applied to this lady’s big toe had not dried properly before she left the salon and when she got home found her shoe had smudged the scarlet varnish and left a wave effect on her nail. With this severe handicap, open toed shoes that night were clearly not even a remote possibility. The fact the other lady expressed equal shock, drove home to me the importance to women of the upkeep of their hooves. Something men cannot comprehend. Every so often my wife remarks I could play the banjo with my toenails and I take three seconds per toe with clippers to prune them. That’s it.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

Don’t talk to me. I’m breathing and I can’t do two things at once

Why...

Is the law about to stop me talking? (Hooray you all cry.) I see there is legislation being pushed to stop people using a hands-free phone whilst driving as it disturbs concentration. The idea that you are incapable of driving a car and having a conversation is absurd. And the idea that a phone call requires more concentration than talking to your passenger is equally daft. Let me tell you, I have to concentrate far more whilst conversing with my passenger, especially if it’s my wife, than chatting on the phone. For a start, I can’t pull a long face, flick her the bird, put her on mute, mutter obscenities under my breath, pick my nose, fart or even ignore her, like I can a voice in the ether. If communication whilst operating a vehicle is so dangerous, how come pilots who are constantly on the radio, don’t veer off to Iceland when on the way to the Costa Brava? Ships heading for Rotterdam don’t end up at Pismo Beach? The real problem of course is that a couple of generations have grown up whose idea of a conversation is texting. People just don’t have conversations, especially in a car. Usually there is a stereo blasting away so loud it makes your ears bleed. So, when a call does come in, an inordinate amount of concentration is needed to hold a conversation. Or worse they text. Result… car crash. Perhaps as part of the driving test, the examiner should have a heated debate on politics or religion. Or the person taking the test should take a call from the Boss.

..and another thing (continue to read this post)

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All posts in category: Sex

Have you got your Easter Bonnet ready?

Why...

My new travel agent

Why...

2021 Summer Holidays... Club 18-30 will be empty. It’s going to be all oldies

Why...

Tokyo Olympics... wanna bet?

Why...

Why are super strength bin liners as thin as a condom and with all the strength of wet rice paper?

Why...

Do I get loyalty points if I have to quarantine for two weeks in a hotel?

Why...

It’s a passport photo, not a Henri Cartier Bresson portrait

Why...

Not only is diet a four letter word, but Darwin was a lying bast*rd

Why...

Next up Jane Bond or In-Diana Jones...

Why...

So bad they named it twice

Why...

Whatever happened to bath time?

Why...

If eating food is a sport, I need to start training properly

Why...

Exactly what is the definition of survival of the fittest?

Why...

Duck it; shot happens

Why...

Where there’s a will, there’s a... relative

Why...

I want to determine Government Policy... right after I’ve tidied my room and finished my homework

Why...

No, it’s not an illness nor a condition... it’s lack of self-control

Why...

How you treat your servants will predict how long you will live

Why...

Not only do most men not understand ‘female plumbing’ but we underestimate the vital importance of the ‘manny peddy’ at our peril.

Why...

Don’t talk to me. I’m breathing and I can’t do two things at once

Why...