Fanny had a large 7-foot tall by 4-foot wide brown package delivered to her rear, tradesmens' entrance this afternoon. It bore the words "Don't open until Christmas day". It was addressed to moi, postmarked Rio de Janeiro. It was rather heavy and there was a strange scuffling noise coming from inside. What could it be?
"Don't open until Christmas day" the words glared at me. Fuck that! I tore off the packaging in a frenzy. At one point there was shredded brown cardboard, remnants of sellotape and other materials showering down like a snowstorm.
Imagine my surprise when all the packaging was removed to reveal this present:
"Don't open until Christmas day" the words glared at me. Fuck that! I tore off the packaging in a frenzy. At one point there was shredded brown cardboard, remnants of sellotape and other materials showering down like a snowstorm.
Imagine my surprise when all the packaging was removed to reveal this present:
It was very kind indeed of my great Aunt Prunella to send me this startled man, seemingly handpicked from the streets of Rio de Janeiro according to the greetings card. He did, however, seem very pleased to see me.
I've set him about dusting the grand banquet room whilst wearing a lime-green posing pouch, and nothing else.
Answers on a postcard, please, as to what I should do with him...
Fanny,
ReplyDeleteIf that hunk ended up in one of my Christmas presents, I'd think all my Christmases had come at once! When's Juan back?
xx