Two Front Teeth
Meg has a replacement computer at home but it is a sick, unhealthy creature. I have no idea if it is just being a hypochondriac or if indeed it does have more viruses than a Portuguese sailor but every two or three minutes it coughs up the phrase 'Message from SYSTEM to ALERT (a bunch of numbers). TOP! WINDOWS REQUIRES IMMEDIATE ATTENTION. WINDOWS has found 47 CRITICAL SYSTEMS ERROR (then a bunch of things we have to do i.e. Re-install something, get an exorcist, make a will)' It varies the message only slightly, by increasing the number of critical systems error. Whatever the Hell that is.
Wait! I've got a Christmas story. It's going to render the title of the blog meaningless but since I've already spent fifteen minutes prattling on about nothing I'll just pray that no-one notices. So be a pal and ignore the last sentence okay?
We used to have a large Fijian fella named Lenny who used to work as a bussy at the bar. A kind, generous soul who used to tolerate Yours Truly since; a) I was technically his boss and b) we'd share some beers and laughs outside of work- a good thing since he could probably rip the throat of a Tyrannosaurus with his bare hands should the occasion called for it. He asked me some Christmases ago if I would like to join him and his friends for a Fijian feast. 'It'll be great. There'll be beer, a lovely roast. Strippers.'
Apparently these guys had an annual event in which they'd invite girls to remove their clothing while they celebrated the birth of our Lord. 'How does your girlfriend feel about that?' I asked him. 'She's okay with it,' he replied ,' she says "You can look at the moon Lenny....you just can't land on it."'
Naked girls- Isn't that what Christmas is truly about?