“Urine a pile of trouble, Fiona…”
I feel I have no alternative but to come out and say it, Yes, I did stay at The Ritz Carlton in Moscow in 2013. It’s true. However, there are limits to the kind of depravity I am prepared to indulge in. I should come clean and clear the air.
Allow me to explain a little, and I should point out that Max, my next door neighbors 20 year old son came into my kitchen this morning as I was slipping on a gingham skirt and smoothing down my black top. As he rushed in he almost caught me by surprise.
“Fiona,” he babbled. “What’s a golden shower?”
I fixed him with a long look and realised he really wasn’t joking.
“Well, Max. When two people love each other very much…” I realised this was not going to be easy. “You see… It’s something two people who love each other very much can share.”
“Oh, what you mean like sex in the shower.”
“Well, not really,” I replied.
“Not if you have gold taps or a golden shower head?”
I think I’m straying from my point. Ah, yes. While it’s true that I have stayed at The Ritz Carlton in Moscow, and I have in the past been linked in some capacities to certain persons who will be inaugurated in the next few days, I would like to strenuously deny any suggestion that I have ever indulged in certain acts in the privacy of a hotel room in Moscow. There are limits to my depravity.
While I could succumb to the questionable pleasures of a golden shower, there is absolutely no conceivable way in which I would be sink to such depths of debauchery as to voluntarily spend time alone with the individual in question. As he has so eloquently put it himself, “I am a germophobe.”
Should some video emerge which shows me in a compromising position, obviously it’s been faked! Honest… Believe me!