Back in the dark ages, when we were young, if you asked a girl to shave her fanny you would have gotten a slap and been called a disgusting pervert. It’s completely the opposite nowadays. You can’t find a full bush for love nor money. Funny old world.
I’ve just been watching, from my bedroom window, the fireworks display celebrating the switching on of the Rugby Christmas lights and I’m reminded of that festive proverb which declares that there are 12 days of Christmas, but none of them falls in fucking November!
Things are going from bad to worse at the Chateau de Vaughan. My attempts at arranging a photoshoot before I go into hibernation have fallen flat twice now. I’m not feeling in the best of health either. Methinks I’m going to find this winter particularly depressing.