Someone asked me recently if I still believed in marriage and I said, “Of course old boy.” I mean you can’t have drifted through five of the things without some belief in the institution and I’m still friendly with all the exes and some of my children, apart from Marjorie, but then even the finest of salads can be spoiled by an excess of vinegar don’t you find?
Not that any of that would have mattered but I teamed up with some quite fetching thing in her prime and you know how one drink leads to another, and then I shared some old films with her and suggested we go on holiday and eat a few cream teas and I find myself filling with emotion and saying, “Fancy a shuffle up the isle my darling” and she sort of shook her head which might mean either yes or no. As I always say, “Time will tell: time will reveal everything,” and let’s face it that can be a “Wincer” once in a while, but that’s another story.
I am a great believer in self-discipline but also in not trying to hog all the good qualities and keep them to myself so I let others enjoy the admiration which comes with self-restraint and I now play open house to any passing calorie, hence the name “Bunter.” I go for walks between the bedroom and the living room and make my own tea and snacks so I think I can hold my head up in company in a way which takes the attention from my chins: no photographs please.
Virginia, my new love, is actually a dog, which might explain why I can’t understand her answer, and when I told the vicar, in strictest confidence, that I wanted to marry my pet as a symbol of my undying devotion, no sex involved, he started shaking his head as well, which just shows how catching some of these endearing habits are. The way he looked at me makes you think that those gents in white coats might be popping in for a talk about life and an afternoon snifter sometime soon.
Anyway, I’ll keep you posted but for now it’s a good bye from me and a woof or two from her. Goodbye.