Supportive, optimistic lot that you are, somebody had to go and inject this into my dream-bubble: Homosexuality, the act of, is punishable by execution in so many of my desired destinations (although I’m not sure whether us women are excused, since it’s *ahem * not physically possible, and therefore widely unrecognised).
As you can imagine, there’ve been some interesting troubleshooting sessions going on. One suggestion was *lowers voice to whisper, glancing around the room nervously * ‘go straight’. Thanks, but no thanks.
Celibacy between all-action home visits leaves a lot to be desired, not to mention what The Family would say when I go home to ‘see them’ and then, umm, don’t. Several suggestions involved magazines, photos or web cams and self-appreciation. And somebody suggested taking my very own sex goddess in my rucksack - actually, I've had several offers of obliging companionship, in exchange for free tickets.
After several pints, the suggestion ‘just go for it, you might not get caught anyway’ seemed like the sensible choice. However, since I’ve promised folks that I won’t come back in a lidded box, it looks like it’s just me and The Rabbit.
Sunday, March 06, 2005
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