Ok, so here we go, into the home straight.
Good start to the week this morning: a friend of mine unexpectedly brought me some hand creme, having read about my dry hands on the Mumble! Very kind, a nice surprise, thank you Miss. F.
Now, if anyone out there happens to have a spare radiator bleeding key could they possibly lend it to me – we’ve got so much air in our system it sounds like we’re living next to the sea. You can use my contact form to send it in.
In a couple of hours I’ll be handing in that essay, my first in about 18 months, and hopefully the second to last one I’ll ever have to write! tell you what though, it’s amazing how much you can learn when the pressure’s on! I should set myself a monthly essay, it would make me so clever.
Seven days boys and girls, SEVEN DAYS till my cutey rushes into my arms at Heathrow! Or as should more likely to be the case, staggers towards me under the weight of chocolate bought especially for me.
I think this is going to be a very WIGGY week.
p.s. Update on my friend Mr. T (who’ve I not mentioned here before but anyway): he is probably undergoing surgery on his back this morning – so lots of of love and skilled surgeons being sent your way.
Mr. T., Sorry I can’t see you in your cute little NHS gown and black stockings!
(1) What on God’s green Earth does “wiggy” mean?
(2) Whatever your answer was to (1), please could you stop using it…it makes even my toe nails cringe.
However, being the kind and generous “Mumbler” I am, I would like to suggest some alternatives I will permit you to use;
off the hook
ding, ding, dong
Anything else is unacceptable, I’m afraid.
You don’t understand ‘Wiggy’? Clearly, you have been out of the loop for a while.
I suggest you look deep into your heart, and there you will find the true meaning of ‘Wiggy’. Then, you will understand that there can be no replacement for ‘Wiggy’.
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