Sylvester’s giant erection.
What a strange time it’s been. Today in Vancouver we have the strangest light, as smoke from forest fires up and down the west coast fills the air. Visibility here is really quite terrible.
With Covid, and forest fires one can only think that a plague of frogs might be next. It does leave one wondering why more people don’t take climate change seriously. It’s going to get hotter and drier in the coming years, and if we don’t want this every summer we might as well get used to reducing carbon emissions.
Sylvester, my mechanic friend, swung by earlier, and told me how his week’s been going. Not much better than mine I think.
“It took three of use, heaving and panting and sweating to get my erection up,” said Sylvester, my mechanic, sitting at my kitchen table and sipping tea from my finest bone china. Like many of my best friends he just appears in my kitchen sometimes. Like a big sweaty mechanic genie.
“I’m sure it did,” I said sympathetically. “Now, just tell me again, this ‘erection’, what is that again?”
“It’s the new sign outside my store. Really beautiful, big and shiny. People can see it for miles.”
“I don’t doubt it, “ I said, my imagination reeling.
“That’s when I did it.”
“You did?” I said, surprised. “In the parking lot?”
“My back! It’s bloody agony!” He clutched his lower lumbar region and winced.
“Poor Sylvester!” I was at my most sympathetic. When an enormous erection goes all wrong I know how difficult things can be. It can get out of hand very swiftly.
“So, I wondered, maybe you could…”
“Sylvester, I am telling you for the very last time! What goes on between you, your boys and your big shiny erection really is your business and I really don’t want to come between you!”
“No! I’m trying to ask, do you know a good chiropractor to help with my back?”
It so happens that I am quite well connected in that department. As I told Sylvester, I happen to know Dicky Longstaff personally.
“Dicky who?” said Sylvester.
“Longstaff. He does all the big names. They say he’s behind some of the biggest boys in TV and film too. Often, I’m told. He has many celebrity clients.”
“Longstaff, you say. That sounds familiar.”
“You’ve probably heard his radio adverts. You know the one! “I’m Dicky, and I’ve got your back!”
Sylvester looked mildly relieved and I told him I would get on the phone as soon as I’d finished this email.
My neighbour’s son Max has been beavering away – his words not mine – in his bedroom, emerging only for food, and we’ve got some exciting updates coming to the website.
He’s up there day and night laboring away at his computer. Such a diligent boy. At least I think that’s what he’s doing up there.
I’ve posted some great new content for my Seahorses on Patreon today. For those of you unaware of The Stories Your Mother Never Told You, Mistress Meg has provided the contents of an unusual set of journals, which one of her clients gave her. I can only describe them as being the sort of thing you’d hope never to see from your own mother. They are really quite disturbing. However, I should let you be the judge of that. Just join my Patreon and have a look at them on this link – https://www.patreon.com/fionad…
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