The passing thoughts of a full-time writer with a fascination for history, geography, literature, art and an unhealthy(?)interest in all things spanking.
Sunday, 11 March 2012
Thoughts on being out late
What did I tell you? Sorry. That's not what I asked. What. Did. I. Tell. You. Ten o'clock. Yes, ten. And what time is it now? Quarter to eleven, but I can explain... I don't want to hear explanations, I want you in position. NOW.