Friday, Oct 29th 2004, 06:07:31 PM 159.83.XXX.XXX Reply
head dork Posts: 4964
i like margaret, tho she must be a terror to live with. hahaha.
Margret appears with a camera. Fortunately, I've still got my underpants on, but - unfortunately - they are soaked and clinging and are doing obscenely little to preserve my modesty. 'Standing in the back garden in nothing but dripping wet underpants' is never going to be a particularly good look, is it? But it doesn't affect Margret, who snaps away excitedly until I manage to escape her probing lens by running off into the house. So far, then, pretty much an average run of events. But, about two weeks later, I'm lying on the sofa and Margret glides into the room. She is grinning broadly, so I know that, whatever's going on, something has happened that's going to depress me. She hands me a letter. It's from the company who develop her photographs and it apologises that, due to some internal mix-up, the pictures have accidentally been sent out to someone else: they are attempting to track them down. While I try to make myself breathe, Margret sits down by me and argues the case for this being the funniest thing in the history of the world.
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