This is the one thousand and first post on this blog.
In publication terms, I’ve effectively begun my second millenium.
To those of you who have come along with me thus far – whether you’ve been here from the beginning of have joined me somewhere along the way – thank you.
You rock my socks off!
Photo courtesy of A Dissolute Life Means
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(in which, we somehow strike on the notion of ginger beer enemas)
Me: Hey, can I put a piece of ginger in your butt?
Him: Uhhh…
Me: *smirk*
Him: Is this some new kinky thing?
Me: Well, it’s not new, but I suppose it’s kinky.
Him: Is this some sort of blog thing then?
Me: Yes. It’s called figging.
Him: So you want to put a fig in my butt?
Me: No, ginger.
Him: *confused face*
Me: *staring expectantly*
Him: I guess I’m no stranger to having things up my bum.
Me: It’ll be better than those horrid coffee enemas you thought were such a great idea. But I could chop up some really fine and make ‘coffee’ out of it, if you think that would be better.
Him: [ . . . ]
Me: *wiggling eyebrows*
Him: It would probably more comfortable than all that prostate stuff…?
Me: [ . . . ]
Him: So it’ll be a… ginger… enema?
Me: Sure! I mean, we don’t even have to coffee-fy it! We have ginger beer in the fridge. Make do with what you’ve got and all that.
Him: Good point. Besides, I mean… I must’ve known this was coming. ‘Cos what else would I have bought it for?
