neighbs

My neighbor, the Jets, made me bangers and mash for dinner tonight. This turns out to be much tastier than it sounds.

So the Sharks is back in Puerto Rico for now, leaving his outrageously homely dog in the care of someone not me. Which is exactly where he, and she, and I, belong.

The Jets. Buck thirty dripping wet and five pounds of that is eyelashes. Uncanny capacity to make me laugh. Calls me neighbs, which he spells naybs sometimes, but I prefer the version more closely connected to word origin. Has a mild crush on gravy, probably as a consequence of having lived in England for some time. The only person I can think of whom I could drag to a hockey game and a tango ball on the same night. Once came after my ass with a mechanical mixer, but in an affectionate way. I could go on and eventually I will, sometime when I'm not borrowing his computer to compose this post.