Meet Jane. Jane was a wonderful woman and a perfect wife. She was lovely, efficient, economical, affectionate and cheerful. However, there was just one slight problem that let Jane down. The fact that she was a dirty bitch. What was the point in keeping her house clean when Jane couldn’t even tend to her own Lady Garden? But the moment Jane really knew that she had a problem, was when giving her a kiss one morning, her husband remarked that she had just reminded him that he needed to pay a visit to the Fishmonger. That’s when Jane decided that she needed to use Lysol. What? The smell of the Ocean emitting from your panties, wasn’t a good enough reason to begin with? Dirty bitch!
Lysol, an antiseptic soap containing Cresol and a Phenol compound.
May cause burning, inflammation and death. In case of death, contact your Doctor immediately.
Alone at a party being bored senseless while some guy drones on about his butterfly collection, before inviting you round to his house to see his etchings? (code for inside his pants) THEN TASER THAT TWAT!
Standing in a long queue because the old aged pensioner in front of you, has spent the last thirty minutes paying for a £10 leg of frozen lamb in pennies and has lost count several times already? THEN TASER THAT TWAT!
With ‘Lady Taser’, you can TASER THAT TWAT and rid yourself of life’s little irritant. Oh yeah, and it’s good for protection too.
Have you ever made sweet sweet love on the shag pile of your living room floor with your husband’s best friend whilst he was asleep upstairs, only to be interrupted mid coitus by your eleven year old who then screams “how could you?!” To which you respond that the man sleeping upstairs isn’t the man that you married and that for the past thirteen years, you’ve felt trapped and unhappy in a loveless marriage and that nobody can make you feel the way that Dave can, NOBODY! Only for your husband to come downstairs at all the noise and then to fall down upon his knees crying, crushed and defeated as he hugs himself rocking back and forth in his grief at the scene before him. And that’s when you have to tell him that Charlotte isn’t his but is in fact Dave’s and that you’ve been practically having an affair since your Honeymoon, thereby shattering Charlotte’s future dreams, hopes and aspirations and making it hard for her to trust anyone enough to stay in a relationship, because of her mother’s ultimate betrayal? If the answer is yes, then you know that carpet burns can be a bitch.
The Love Rug strokes your body as you make love, because if you have hair like that guy, it’s the only thing that you’ll be making love to.
As we all know, hygiene is very important and If there’s one thing that everyone hates, then it’s a smelly pussy. It’s no chore to keep your pussy smelling nice and fresh. A dip in the bath with a floral scented soap, will keep both you and your pussy happy.
What? You didn’t think I was going to let a post like this go by without mentioning the P word once, did you? And who the hell takes a bath with their cat? Biatch needs to get out more.
Now we have all endured the insufferable pain that is toothache. But what can you do when you can’t get an appointment at the dentist because he’s up on sexual harassment charges again? Well here’s the answer…
Just a few drops of Cocaine Toothache Drops and you won’t give a rat’s arse about dental pain or any other pain for that matter…or your kids…your partner…your friends…job…life…
Cocaine Toothache Drops is for sale at all good Druggists. Crackalacka Colin is the best I know. Just tell him I sent you.
It has become common knowledge over the years, that men love a hard working woman. They like nothing better than to see a woman on her knees, giving it her all. Because nothing quite says sexy then wrinkled knees and dish-pan hands. But where does a woman find the stamina to do all the things that she needs to do, in order to keep her man happy? Well it’s mainly this…
As well as this…
But mostly it’s this…
Well that’s all the time we have from our sponsors this week. But join us next time as we continue to muddy the waters of the past.
~Lily
The Incoherent Ramblings Of A Moose 
Good lord, I was not prepared for that!
Although I laughed like a loon and had to take a break half way through( i really did), I feel I must protest at your continued mentioning of a certain word.
Please stop using this word, as it is not big and not clever and you are better than this Lily.
You know what word it is…. and so do I.
I bloody HATE Dave!
hahahahahahhahaabloodydavehahahahahahahaa.
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Hahaha! Mr H, I shall confess that the name that I was originally going to use was Tony. But the name Dave kept flashing in my mind, (must be all the ecstasy that I took last night) along with your ire and agitation at the merest mention of such a title. And so with you in mind, the name stayed…you’re welcome. 🙂
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Well I’m with Mr H I was trying to twist and turn my way through your post, being the quiet middle class chap I am, when I was met with Dave. I mean I dont even know Dave, but I do know that once Mr H sees he is involved it is like a Red Bull to a can (sorry red bull to a rag . . . . . . .no hang on. . . . Red Rag to a bull). . .
Anyway Miss Lily you are very naught indeed. . . . .Although I wish I had wealthy corporate sponsors paying huge sums for the use of my blog, but I must remain the blogging face of quiet middle class Britain. . . . . Hang on I think I have just worked out why no one reads my blog . . . . . . . . . . . . .DAMN
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Sorry Mr Z, I forgot to put out a warning. I need to construct a sign just for you and place it at the beginning of posts such as these…okay, maybe and quite possibly, at the start of EVERY post.
Heehee, I did use the name Dave to wind up Mr H and his mushy peas eating ways, and it worked a treat. Mind you, I bloody hate Dave too.
And you don’t need wealthy corporate sponsors. There are other ways to have a more successful blog. Now when I find out what those other ways are, I’ll let you know.
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I’d like to have one of those love rugs. Carpet burns don’t heal nearly as quickly as they did years ago…
You’ve outdone yourself again. (You mean my housemaid’s knees and dishpan hands aren’t… attractive…?)
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*chokes on the crumbs of her Jamaican Ginger cake and almost pees herself* Hahahaha!! SUSAN! I’m not even going to comment on the first part of that sentence…but always keep a tube of Savlon Healing Gel handy.
Thank you lovely lady.And you’re always attractive, even with your wrinkled appendages…okay…that doesn’t sound how I meant it to sound…
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Isn’t Dave really Rodney Trig? As for pussies, all they ever seem to do is crap in my bloody garden. So, yes. They can be very smelly and should be washed with scented soap. Personally I prefer beaver! PIL has one she calls Clit Eatswood. It’s very Hollywood at the moment.
Where do you get those toothache drops again? Really must get some.
Thank Morgan I read this in the evening. Didn’t get coffee down me front from laughing. It was sausage and mash instead! Thanks for that. I needed a good belly laugh after a crap day
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Ah Mr D, only Fools And Horses would think that…see what I did there?
Pussies can be notoriously difficult to keep clean at times. After a good roll around in the garden, it’s time for some MATEY and a good scrub. After that, it’s a quick trim and time for bed. My pussy likes a good stroke at bedtime, which ensures a good night’s rest for both of us.
Glad you got a good laugh out of this Mr D and sorry to hear that you had a crap day. Hope all is well.
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Hmm. Your pussy and PILs beaver have a lot in common. Clit likes a stroke every night and always enjoys a jolly good lick.
Today’s another day so we shall see how that turns out. Have a great day yourself
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My pussy did enjoy a good licking, and was none too fussy about what time of day it was, or where it was. On the carpet, on the bed, sometimes even the sofa.
Today is another day and I hope it’s a good one for you.
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Are you sure you’re not PIL?
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Heehee. 🙂
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Well, since we all seem to be either euphemistically or directly addressing pussies, I feel it’s my duty to report a pussy incident currently occurring in my own dwelling, as we speak: One of the resident pussies, who is bipolar and has focus issues, has chosen this exact moment to go all Voldemort and is hissing and spitting and trying to rip the flesh from my legs with angry pussy claws. Having encountered this behavior before, I instantly reached for my handy water-squirter and began drenching the pussy with spurts of dominance and control.
Things didn’t go as planned.
The pussy refused to be cowed by the previously-established profundity of my squirter, and the situation quickly escalated into one of pure pussy pissiness, accompanied by a guttural howling that could be heard throughout the land and an increased risk for the potential slashing of pendulous organs. In desperation, I called the Vatican for an exorcism.
Luckily enough, a papal intervention proved unnecessary, as my partner chose that moment to wander in from a distant wing of the manor. He muttered something in Swahili to the overstimulated pussy, said pussy gave a final hiss and then ran off to lurk behind a curtain in the den, still percolating but temporarily satiated. Peace for now, as the participants plan their next aggression, but suffice it to say that I don’t want that pussy anywhere near my bed tonight.
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Okay, I just need a moment to collect myself after “with spurts of dominance and control.”
Obviously, your partner is a master of pussy control. Men like him are much sought after by cat women everywhere, for the power that they wield. It is a power that few possess and handed down from generations of pussy lovers, or ‘Puss Whisperers’, as they are known. Muttering the ancient language of Swahili, allows the pussy to relax and a relaxed pussy, is a grateful and happy pussy. Hold on tightly to that man Mr Lageose, for he is a gift from the Gods!
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Some say gift, others say neurotic whirlwind of displeasure and fear. But yes, my partner does have his shining moments of glory, wherein he wrangles belligerent pussies into some form of submission whilst still managing to slap together a nice tuna casserole for din-din. How he manages this, I have no idea, but as long as the pussy is satiated and I get something to eat as we peruse the latest episode of “American Horror Story: Ninja Pussies From Hell”, it’s all good…
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Neurotic whirlwind of displeasure and fear you say? Who wrangles belligerent pussies into submission, you say? And cooks! Sounds like a dream. We women and my mate Jason, like a Mr Grey type. Now where did I put that riding crop again…you know…on account of the fact that I like riding…horses…I mean what else would I be talking about? *nervous laughter ensues*
Must have missed that particular episode of American Horror Story…
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Um I bathe with my pussies… yes plural, after all I am greedy. One tries to hide from one’s pussies, only for them to seek them out and play the death stare game.
I definitely need that taser your twat.. or even twot if that takes your fancy
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What takes my fancy Ms B, is Channing Tatum chained to the bed, naked and covered in whipped cream, whilst I…oh sorry…was daydreaming there for a bit.
I’ve never bathed with any of my pussies. Just a hint of water and I’d be spending the next hour trying to coax them from their hiding places.
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Does Mrs Tatum know or is she included with the whipped cream?
Don’t mess with a wet puss..it can either purr or become very bitter
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Mrs Who?
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No..not the Doctor’s wife
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Ah, I see what you did there.
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Oh Lily, I don’t think I could add anything if I tried. Suffice it to say that I laughed so much that I snorted dark choc fruit n nut all down my t shirt. It looked like a very uncomfortably passed mini-cowpat. Nasty.
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I hear the Mini-Cowpat look, is all the rage among farmers.
Thank you Kimberley, er…have you got any of that choc fruit n nut left? I’m not asking for me…it’s erm…for a ‘friend.’
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You do have some witty followers Miss Lily . . . . . . . . . .
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I know Mr Z. It’s what makes blogging so much fun. I look forward to reading their comments more than I do some blogs.
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