binliners

YOU KNOW WHAT YOUR PROBLEM IS?

Sara has a low opinion of Irish men. But there’s one for whom she reserves particular scorn. One prototypical idiot she regards as even more clueless than the herd. “Tell me Eooo-wen”, she purrs in that annoying Teutonic drone of hers. “What are you getting your girlfriend for Christmas?”

“Binliners, perhaps? Tampons?”

She shrieks with laughter. I don’t bother lying.

“To be honest, I doubt we’ll even be together by Christmas.” Read the rest of this entry »