Dangerous Liaisons

Complimentary Health

You may be wondering where in the world I have been these last two months. It's hard to say with any real certainty, but the last months of winter haven't been their kindest. It's just a fact of life that February in the temperate zones is hellish and after a few miniature disasters in the name of gainly employment, romance, moving on, facing up, falling out and trying in vain to appear in control of the process, respectively. You could well be glad I took those dark months off, to ride out a winter of discontent in the relative safety of solitude.

Although that's not what really happened, not entirely. In resolute point blank refusal to give in to seasonal depair, I have been partying all over the country, denying burnout, dressed scantily. Fastening young ladies into corsets, zipping naughty girls into all-in-one devil suits (honestly, not even a hole for a face!) Attaching lashes, buffing bustles, sliding down poles whilst encircled by bobbing bottoms, attending a grand Oxford University ball dressed in barely more than a Donna Karin shirt and to climax, falling out of a dead shark and performing a striptease.

Have I mentioned that I lead the steely double life of a burlesque performer? Well sometimes it transports me to a galaxy far far from reality. But then reality is subjective. And bearing that in mind, what seems plausible after pumpkin time, can require the most deft Fairy-Godmother to pull off. So following my gutsy shark debut, long after the clock had struck midnight, I shepherded the last-standing, negotiating Bristol, carrying shoes, deflecting the amorous attentions of Eastern European night shift workers, to what was thus far an undisclosed location and turned out to be the residence of one mysterious (or not) "Dr Love". Here I took full advantage of a hot bath, sometime after dawn and Dr Love climbing in to give me a foot rub.

Now that's what I call complimentary health.

I have since lost most of my eyelashes in a small gas explosion on a boat. So it's lucky my burlesque adventures have equipt me with the rock steady hand of an experienced lash applier who's not afraid to fake. Though having arrived back to my one woman boudoir, a little more Spam than Glam. I feel it might be time for a little change of pace and an adaptation of my own Great Expectations.

Watch this space the commercial break is about the end.