[...somewhere deep in darkest cyberspace, a sneeze is heard...]
"...AAAAAASSHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOO"
"It's those miniscule skirts you will insist upon wearing regardless of the temperature. Did I or did I not warn you the other day to wrap up warm as it was minus four? And did you or did you not completely disregard my advice and proceed to go out in the snow wearing a microskirt and skimpy 5 deniers? Well, I'm waiting?"
"Yo dot helpig - cad yo stob havig a go ad be ad pass be sub tissued plead. By dode id streabig ad I'b feeding like shid warbed ub ad I'b really dot id der bood for a legtcher, thag you very buch..."
"Ah, poor Ames! You are bunged up, aren't you! Here, have some Lemsip. I've put a straw in there too. And some ice. Just how you like it."
"Thags."
"Excuse me young lady, but are those my tights you're wearing?"
"I hodesly dode doe Bob, I jud pigged up der firsd pair thad cabe do had. Why, id thad a probleb?"
"It is when you've laddered them darling. They were brand new too. Oh well, I suppose with a few specks of feck blood they'll do for MySpace..."
"I'b do soddy Bob; I probise I'll ged you aduther pair id the Dew Year. You doe wad id's like whed you're feedig a bid udder par ad oud of sords. I bead, loog ad be - I cad hardly keeb by eyed obed..."
"I know petal, I know. Here, you get back into bed and I'll do you some eggs and toast and put some nice soothing music on for you, how would you like that...?"
"Mmm, you're der tobs Bob - thag you doe buch for being do kide ad loogig afder be so well..."
[....sound of Cream's Disraeli Gears blaring out at full volume from the living room...]
"Bob, whad id dat derrible raget? I cad hardly hear byself dink...?"
"I thought you'd like this Ames - it's got Ginger Baker on it..."
"Whode Giger Bager...???"
"He was the drummer. By the way, how do you like your eggs Ames..."
"Udferdilized..."
xxx
Bob
It's another world.
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