Contradictory Bastard
Two bits of oft-contradictory bloody advice, my old man gave me.

1. Play the field when you're young.
2. Never piss on your own doorstep.

So you can imagine my confusion when arose the opportunity to knock boots with the very, very fit policy officer from the next-door office ... with a corresponding reaction from my auxilary trouser-brain.

Do I take his first bit of advice, and get it whilst I can, before the belly overhangs the belt, the hairline recedes and the only opportunity to get my fingers sticky comes from abusing Werther's Originals?

Or do I throw caution and common sense to the wind, and sweep her off her feet and into the nearest bed, regardless of the consequences for conscience, career and karma?

Well, gentle reader, I followed the first and ignored the second.

Which was a mistake.

Oh, there were no recriminations from colleagues, who to this day remain oblivious, as does my (now ex) bird of the time. The hotel wasn't expensive, the shagging was great and I'm still friends with the policy officer.

But I did get a chronic case of shits from rimming her. Oh well.
( Grouch would quite like his clients to stop being numptys, Mon 8 May 2006, 16:41, Reply)