this sunday morning just past:


woke up to discover Alex S. was naked, entangled in a red velvet curtain for comfort and warmth, slumbering upon my sofa.


the boys had all ended up naked again. and as usual the girls weren't interested in taking their clothes off.


draped over my armchair, the full set of clothes which I had shed the night before, arranged to create a bodiless double of myself, like a ghostly scarecrow, including my leather briefcase, my white scarf, my Bexley Dog Training Club rosette (awarding me 4th place) & an empty whisky bottle- clutched by an invisible left hand.

placed in the centre of my clothes the following note:

"Alex Kovacks, we love your fury octopusy. It feels like 1025 volts of fruit juice gushing threw our viens. It is impossible to describe they way we feel about your cockies. We wish we could live in your sock drawer. Love, All of Us!"