Where next?
And now, guess what? I’m married! Who would have thought that in my twilight years I would find the woman of my rather scary dreams? Tall, with blonde hair all the way down her back (none on her head, just all the way down her back), her name is Agnes and she is probably more ugly than me. When we get intimate we both have to wear a paper bag over our heads (I wear 2, in case one rips). We were married by a judge. I should have asked for a jury. On our first night as a married couple, we were lying there in bed, I was running my hands across her body and whispered huskily, ‘I’m gonna make you the happiest woman in the world’. She replied ‘I’ll miss you’. A thief stole my credit card but I decided not to report it as he was spending less than my wife was. She said to me ‘I was a fool to marry you’, I said ‘ I know dear, but I was in love and didn’t notice’. I still enjoy sex at 55. I live at 51 so it’s no distance really. I haven’t spoken to her now for eighteen months. Well, I don’t like to interrupt. I took Agnes up to clean the attic the other day. Dirty, smelly, full of cobwebs. Still, she’s good at ironing. She told me I should be more loving. So I got a mistress. I never knew what real happiness was until I got married; but by then it was too late. And now, as I write this on my deathbed, I have one last request. That is to be buried at sea. She promised she would dance on my grave! Thank you and goodni….aaarrrrgh!
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