He forced his jumbo jet into my hangar

I've been in a continual black mood due to weeks of apocalyptic weather; my all-over tan has faded suddenly from Hawaiian Sunset to the unflattering pallor of a shelled, boiled egg, something I find intolerable.

Growing up in the aridness of Southern Texas, I am not at all accustomed to this dankness.  It seems that light is literally at the end of the tunnel, as meteorologists claim sunny weather begins in the next few days.   Given the vagaries of the English climate, I am planning to buy a third home in the gorgeous country of Portugal - I'll post more on that subject soon.

In the meantime, stuck indoors with rain hammering against the French doors and the fire lit at 10 in the morning, I've been reading classical porn from my library, although I should make the point that this is not trashy porn or chic-lit, which I find insulting to my intelligence, but soft-core porn from the Golden Era.  I'll not bore you with too many details, only to say how wonderfully evocative I found the following expression:

"He forced his jumbo jet into my hangar"

 It does conjure a wonderful mental image, doesn't it?