Not cursing the darkness quite as loudly

Good news! My darling paramour has granted me leave to make limited mention of our relationship here.

While our discussions relating to open-water piracy, deicide and concerned education authorities+ are acceptable, I’m afraid this new latitude does not extend to topics such as [CENSORED], [CENSORED] and especially not [CENSORED]. This is a pity, because [CENSORED], if you know what I mean?

However, I can tell you that she’s the only person who has ever bought me flowers and Lindt chocolate++ and needless to say (which is why I’m typing it – try and keep up, okay?), I’m nuts about her+++

+ Which aren’t quite as unrelated as you might initially think

++ Looks like those charisma classes are finally starting to pay off

+++ Yes, yes, I KNOW the urge to make “just plain nuts” comments must be overwhelming. Fight it


49 thoughts on “Not cursing the darkness quite as loudly

  1. Flowers & chocolate hey.
    Sounds a bit like my granny?

    Great, I’ll see you at the old age home on Sat. They have tea & crumpets after the afternoon blue-rinse session. Weekly highlight that one is.

    Welcome to the family!

    Do you mind if I call you grandad??


  2. luke: Sense and censorbility?

    betenoir: You may. Money would be better, but if that’s all you’ve got, I’ll take it. I am not ungracious.

    xGW: Maybe. I draw the line when it comes to a tealady uniform, though.

    revo: Not at all, Sonny Boy. Do you mind if I upload the video of Granny kicking your ass to YouTube?

    mrs B: *shock!* Please, not in front of Revo the children.

    xGW (again): *snort!* Crack. Innuendo. Oh, that’s beautiful. I can die happy now.

    mrs B (again): Innocent? Just the same I think I’ll keep the ol’ bell, book and candle at the ready, just in case.

    cedric: You have the right to remain silent…


  3. katt: Thanks. “Hey Mr Kettle, you’re black.”

    xGW (yet again): No need. Cayennetology is already an underground movement.

    martin: Opinions are divided on this.

    iitq: How about I give a secret signal?

    tenmiles: What, you mean like indigestion? No.


  4. *swwooooonnnn*

    I loves the squishy romantic stuff. Yay for the flower and chocolate bedecked Noord and his paramour.

    PS I always thought a paramour was an over anxious North African. But I was wrong.


  5. tenmiles: Do you:
    1. Feed him to a bantha?
    2. Sell him into slavery?
    3. Do a bit of light trepanning with a sharpened crystal?

    dolce: and I always thought dolce was a collectable plastic figurine of Senor Guevara, but I was wrong.


  6. “But has she ever given you something that kept you up until 2am in the morning?”.
    Now you know me Ten Miles.
    Just pause a moment and read that again.
    Given the context of the post, I’d say you might want to re-consider how you phrase that. Of course KN is free to censor this too 🙂


  7. parenthesis: Sucked into the spam filter again. How ironic.

    livewire: Now there’s a charming thought! Yick. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat again.

    katt: 😯

    anicker: That’s a nasty cough you have there. Maybe you should think about cutting down?


  8. peas: The humbugs are on back-order. Would you like to suck on a lifesaver in the mean time?

    fence: Oh yeah? I’ll see your [CENSORED] and raise you a [BANNED].


  9. dolce: I never prance. I may shimmy a bit, but that’s IT.
    peas: Nice ring to that.
    the crutch: Are you stalking me?
    ant: Ant, ant, there’s no need to worry – it was love that made me a cynical bastard in the first place (but thanks for the concern :mrgreen: )
    ol’ hoss: Yeah, I can do wistful.
    dharma: Which rather begs the question: what is left?


  10. luke: Fanks. Berry kind.

    mrs B: Careful, people might talk.

    xGW: Careful, more people might talk.

    martin: Ta. I’m hoping she’s in a presumptious mood.

    ben O: Especially if you like flowers and chocolate. Or you want to start a cult.




  12. Shoulda read this years ago. Too late for chocolate now, eh? Although I could smuggle some chocolate into your lentils: I’ve always loved a man in a coma. Sleeeep, little dahling 🙂 Yeh.


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