Friday 6 November 2009

Whistling Serenade

I thought it was geese flying south for the winter that woke me up from my slumber early this morning, I roused myself vaguely from the half sleep and realised it was the window cleaner whistling Sex On Fire. Sensing fire in his loins, I pulled back the quilt and beckoned him in. When I managed to focus my eyes on the window he wasn't there he had gone on to do the bathroom windows. Shame, he can dunk his chamois in my bucket anytime.

6 comments:

  1. This sounds like a recent scene from Corrie. Lucky Michelle.
    Sx

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  2. *strums ukulele and channels George Formby*

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  3. It does Scarlet, my window cleaner is about 25, blond hair and muscular. He could pop through my opening anytime he likes, he wouldn't have to buy me dinner to get my drawers off and I certainly wouldn't report him to the police for stalking.

    MJ dear, you are showing your age just like I've been doing by mentioning Peggy Mount on Scarlet's post!

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  4. Actually, Mistress MJ has eclectic taste in music and George Formby is just one of many on her extensive song list.

    The fact that she knows the lyrics to a number of Renaissance madrigals doesn’t mean she was born in the 16th century.

    And, oddly enough, I also know the entire WWI and WW2 songbooks!

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  5. What an impressive repertoire you have MJ. I'll have to invite you along to one of my candle light suppers, over at Moss Cottage and have a good old fashioned singalong on the piano forte.

    That certain night,
    The night we met,
    There was magic abroad in the air.
    There were angels dining at the Ritz,
    And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.

    Do excuse me MJ for a brief moment I had slipped into a pre-second world war vortex.

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  6. That's quite alright.

    I have a penny whistle that needs tonguing.

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