What, I hear you say, but don't worry it's not with another man but with a lovely supple leather implement I bought for P's birthday, known as a tawse. I can't believe I'm saying this looking at it again this morning but it's true. It's my new favourite implement. It's not logical because it's heavy and it hurts, and I do mean *Hurts*, but for some reason its the sort of hurt I can take more. And more. And ........yep you get the idea.
I could scream and shout it hurts so much, but it would be screams and shouts of joy. I've heard tales of sub space and I've never really managed to visit there myself but now, with this discovery, I think I might make the trip, in fact I think I was halfway there last night but it ended too soon because I think P reckoned I'd had enough and I didn't want to do an Oliver Twist. I haven't told him yet. I will of course, otherwise I'll never make that trip, but I worry that if I tell him how much I really like it he'll be inclined to use it less because he'll say 'you're not supposed to like it that much', which is probably true. So I guess I'll tell him it was so-so but either the leather must be a bit wimpy or maybe his technique is lacking because it didn't seem to do what tawses were revered for doing....or something along those lines. That should prompt him of his own accord to raise the bar.
Why do some implements work that way? I really don't know. Why does one person like green when another prefers red, why does P like tomatoes when I hate them, I think we just have to accept sometimes without digging for reasons. Anyway I didn't tell you why I was receiving this Scottish treat, the subject came up after his mother had asked him if he'd worn any of the (ghastly and almost iridescent) t-shirts she'd bought him for his birthday and he'd lied that he had. I admonished him for telling porkies and then reminded him again there was still another unused item, so he corrected the situation. Robustly:)
Ronnie
xx
