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8 comments
I hope the bailiff doesn’t catch word of the wine club! Although, as always, you’ve chosen well.
I used to date actresses. They’re tragic. On a weekly basis they’re told, no, you’re too young, too old, too thin, not a blonde. It’s a ridiculous life. They need a lot of rescuing and that always appealed to me. Until it didn’t.
It’s ok with the bailfiffs. I’m a practised liar.
My middle daughter is dead set on being an actress. It’s the only thing she wants to do.
Ugh, what bad timing. Maybe you could’ve offered to split the wine with the bailiff if he could just, you know… lose the paperwork….
Good idea but I’d be very reluctant to waste a bottle of Petit Verdot on him. He looked like he’s much rather have a nice tin of Carling.
“What’s this?”
“Oh, it’s Bouvet Tresor, it’s a Saumur which is basically a champagne but from the other side of Paris, near Tours. They age it in caves cut hundreds of metres underground in the soft tufa rock.”
“Tastes lovely, a bit like Carling Chrome.”
[Looby turns to camera and wiggles his eyebrows up and down.]
i like those first dates when the night ends with “I’m just not feeling it! Thanks for your time! Good luck!” It is SO much more pleasant than the half-hearted “yeah, i had a great time…” exchanges that piddle on for a week or so….
Yes, I actually sat there smiling for a couple of minutes after she left, enjoying how honest and straightforward it had been. Good!
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