Monday, January 27, 2014


Here it is, Monday morning, and you're wondering what to do today. Perhaps something depraved?  No, that's impossible. The folks with whom you share a residence would be shocked, horrified, and quite appalled!

The nerve! The effrontery! Oh horrors!

Well, perhaps not that bad. But you would far rather they didn't know about it at all. Even if your depravity was totally innocent and natural.

All depravity, with the possible exception of snarfing down dim sum, requires privacy.

Like dim sum, however, tea is an absolute must.

Even if all you plan to do is recline upon the sofa in your underwear reading trashy novels and munching crisp green apples all day.

Apples that remarkably are the same hue as your panties.

You need that cup of tea. It's the condicio sine qua non. A nice cup of tea just adds so much to life, don't you agree?

All of this is assuming that you are female. I have no interest in conceiving of this imaginary scene if the person wearing the French cuts, bikini briefs, or high cuts is male; I am not that depraved.
Nor do I wish to make a cup of tea if this is the case.

In actual fact, I am a very innocent person. While I can well imagine what someone suitable might look like, bathed in the sunlight of an early Monday morning while wearing only panties and munching apples (or a big plate of eggs, bacon, and hash-browns) and lazing about on the sofa, this is not likely to ever take place in my vicinity.
Seeing as I have no sofa, and it would therefore be on the bed.
Where the stuffed animals would demand their share.

"Feed us, strange person, and pet us too!"

They'd probably spill the tea.

Entirely aside from which, while the concept of a pleasingly unclothed (except for one or two scraps of material) person with qualities that I find charming invading my space for the express purpose of reclining and reading paperbacks is infinitely appealing, I know of none such.
It is, as you can guess, a fond fantasy.


There are almost insurmountable difficulties that would have to be overcome to make it happen.

Finding a candidate, plus verification of "conducive suitability".
Think of it as either due-diligence or expressions of interest.

The very first question would probably get me in trouble, and each subsequent question would only make it worse.

1) "Do you have nice cotton panties?"

2) "Do you like to read cheap literature?"

3) "Do you nibble on fruit while nearly nude?"
Fierce kick!

4) "Would you like me to make you a cup of tea while you relax in your high cuts, bikini briefs, or French cuts?"

And at this point, whoever it is will haul the pepperspray out of her purse and make my life a living hell. Everything else was just an hors d'oeuvre, this is the entrée.

The other obstacle is that the sunlight doesn't hit my window till the afternoon. So any languor would necessarily take place while my side of the building is shaded. There would be no sunlight dappling golden skin through the blinds till lunch time. Bit of a downer, I would think.

Besides, I'd probably say something wicked, or act like a hamsap.
Couldn't help myself, but it would destroy the mood.
I'm just a wee bit dirty minded.

It's a handicap.

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