I am not a doormat

OK: that’s not strictly accurate: obviously I am a doormat. But I’m not just a doormat, you know?  I am also a foot-rest, a cup-holder, a draft excluder, a bookshelf end and a rather amusing vase for flowers.  Although no more than three of those things simultaneously.

It’s odd how sometimes the most sadistic individuals so often realise later that they weren’t cruel enough.  My SO has this problem all the time: you’d think she’d learn and stop being so lenient.

So… does that mean next week it’s my turn again?  No?  Oh.

There seems to be quite a lot of shared understanding in that room. Obviously some great teaching techniques being applied.

Lion?  Lover-boy?  Lady-killer?  Liposome?  Leprechuan?

Perhaps they could somehow transplant the ones from the real rapist?  After a fair trial and conviction, obviously.  Oh – he already lost them in the police station?  That’s unlucky.  Funny how often that happens… you’d think the police would take more care.

0 thoughts on “I am not a doormat”

  1. Why not Long term or alliteration and L for Long term Lingum Lockup. Love the castration one. Femsup

  2. Many people think that time travel is impossible; it raises too many contradictions and logical absurdities. But in a world in which men are still permitted to vote, how can anything be considered truly beyond the bounds of reasonable possibility?

  3. Obviously, she's not responsible for the smartness of the uniform; cleaning and ironing is boys' work. But she takes pride in the authenticity of her appearance… and her methods.

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