Seated at my PC earlier, I noticed a letter in the waste paper basket next to the desk.
Crumpled up, even as it was, I saw that it was from the local council. And I could see that it was addressed to the current Mrs Masher. And I could also see the word ’sex’.
Intrigued, I fished it out of the basket and straightened it out.
“The introduction of a new category for the licencing of Sexual Entertainment Venues under the Local Government Act 1982 needs to be reflected and therefore a policy is being proposed to deal with all Sex Establishments.” it said… amongst other things.
“Er, Mrs M”, I said, walking into the kitchen brandishing the letter aloft in a Chamberlain-esque fashion, “what’s this all about?”
“Oh, that”, she said, giving it a perfunctory glance and returning to her toast and coffee. “Not sure, really. I think it’s because I’m licensed to sell alcohol, so I get copied in on any updates to the local Licensing Policy.”
“Hold on… you’re licensed to sell alcohol? Since when?”
“Since about five years ago. I went on that course, for work, remember?”
“Oh. Yeah. I remember now. So, you’re not opening a sex shop then?”
“No dear.”
Somewhat deflated, I went back to my spreadsheets.
Oh dear. That’s a bit of a body blow. Why don’t you suggests that readdresses the issue as a possible diversification?
I missed the word ’she’ out after the word ‘that’.
Look, we can’t have a sexual-related post and then Annie chiming in with the word ‘blow’. It’s not cricket.
Annie - I could ask, but… I think it’s probably best that I don’t.
Bren - cricket is a ball game, is it not?
Surely the real innuendo is:
“I fished it out of the basket and straightened it out.”
Ooh err Missus.