pat
The first genuinely inedible dish of the whole project was cooked up tonight. Grace was right to be suspicious of Pat’s mush. Even if it was made with Marks and Spencer’s prime posh corned beef it was a right dog’s dinner. I wouldn’t even let Ginger have a little taste. It all went in the bin. What on EARTH was he thinking of? It has surpassed Ginger Rogers’ Butterscotch Date Pudding in the revolting stakes.

I don’t like his politics and I don’t like his patties.

However, much fun has been had today with the new toy that is known as Skype. Marilyn introduced me to the device and the reason she likes it so much soon became crystal clear. Later Grace and I had a very amusing video chat with The Artist and I flashed him my tassle-pants. All very teenage style behaviour but extremely entertaining.

I wonder if The Downstairs Neighbour has Skype. He is my first new prospect for 2008. Still trying to get my head around how on earth someone in the size of London can pick me out of a dating internet site and just HAPPEN to live in the flat below the one that I used to visit for liaisons with the Chaw-Bacon. How can that BE?

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