Conas tá inniu? I asked him, enquiring after his health. Poor lamb's been laid low for the last week with a horrific dose of the feeling sorries for himself. Oh, I've been sympa as sympa can be, but there's only so much of that I can do before I begin to smell of pathetic. So I sent the text and braced myself for a gulping reply, engineered to elicit sympathy from this egocentric bitch. A moment later, the phone lit up. Better today, I think. Eating, showering, wanking and hoovering (not necessarily in that order).
I laughed. Because he lights up my phone, this friend, I got some Jaffa cakes in for the next time he drops over. It says on the tube that they're ideal for sports bags, but I'm sure they're good for whingebags too.
I laughed. Because he lights up my phone, this friend, I got some Jaffa cakes in for the next time he drops over. It says on the tube that they're ideal for sports bags, but I'm sure they're good for whingebags too.
