I'M DYING - TO MEET THE RIGHT MAN!

My dears, I just read Daniel's post on euthanasia and I roused on him, yes I did. People don't want to read scary things like that, I told him, especially people like me who are just on the wrong side of fifty. He looked a bit shamefaced like I'd caught him peeing on the toilet seat again.

When he was little he had terrible aim at one stage and I was flummoxated as to what to do. I fixed his problem! I got a plastic dart board and lay it in the toilet bowl. He got a lolly for every bulls eye. He's got none of his own teeth now but his aim is unerring.

My Arnold never had that problem. He was so lazy he sat down on the seat whenever he twinkled. Always took a magazine in with him, he did. Never a useful one that showed how to add a room or put up a trellis. Not my Arnie. Ones with some semi-naked women on the front and boobs like Jerseys! I never look at the pictures, Smoochums, he said, making the sign of the Cross on his hairless chest twice, I'm just trying to improve my mind reading the articles. The only way his mind could've been improved was with a brain transplant! However, it was rather nice in winter to use the bathroom straight after him, I'll have to say that.

Now what was I saying? Oh, yes, I'm dying to feel a...a...kiss on my neck again, a man's touch! Arnie's been gone for such a long time. He went down the street for cigarettes and didn't come back. That was nearly twenty years ago. Surely the shop has been restocked by now! At least the delay has probably saved his health.

To tell the truth I don't suppose he's coming back. Be nice if he wrote me, let me know he's all right. It's lonely on your own. There's no one to nag, 'cept Danny. But he's glued to his keyboard 23 hours a day!

One day my Prince will come! Maybe. Knowing my luck, he'll turn out to be a Queen!