Today’s drinks are being served in the Beds & Bedding section of a large department store, where the staff are skulking, embarrassed, near the till. They have asked us to get our feet off the beds, and stop drinking in the shop, so many times. It’s shameful. Asta still had her pinny on from her bar work last night, so we’ve asked her to tote her tray over this way, in between swigs of her belladonna.
Sharing the four poster and a bucket of Bon Jovi, Lori is almost certainly corrupting poor Pigwotflies with free samples of naughty lingerie. She has form for this sort of thing. Perhaps we should send in Tucola, since he was looking for something that has been lain for a few years.
Clair was too slow, and missed the chance to lounge on the train-shaped toddler bed, and sadly, in the style of Goldilocks, Lyle has crushed it. So I’ve got her a pirate ship instead. May the cloudfairies bless her and all who sail in her. Here’s a bottle of gin to break on the prow. Probably best to sail it away from Graybo and his perfect storm, though perhaps his bed will soon drift into calmer waters, where he can share his Shirley Temple of Doom with her.
I’m having a Sleeping Beauty, complete with Disney princess outfit, and sleeping on a pile of mattresses up to the ceiling. Strangely, I cannot detect the pea. It’s the weekend, have a lie-in, everyone.