Sunday, June 12, 2011

Super Sex

It seems to me that my staff's lives revolve around horsepiddles and old folks homes these days. My female staff recently visited her Dad's old folks home - Sunny Days Aged Care Facility, or Stalag 17 as it is affectionately known by the residents. Once she got past the razor wire, the minefield and the German shepherds her Dad gave her the full tour. Someone was in the "slammer" incessantly tossing a baseball against the wall, while other residents had organised choir practice to hide the noise that the digging of escape tunnels was making.

As they sat there enjoying a cup of dirty grey liquid purporting to be coffee, something of a kerfuffle was heard to be taking place, One of the female residents had finally cracked - gone stir crazy. Instead of making a desperate dash for the fence only to be mown down by the guards' machine guns and left hanging there for the crows to pick at at their leisure, she was going from one male resident to the next, lifting her nightie and yelling "Super Sex!" at the top of her voice. Now, it should be remembered that this resident was ninety plus years of age and the goods on display were somewhat past their use by date. She approached my female staff's Dad, raised her nightie and yelled "Super Sex!" He eyed her with a certain amount of distaste and said simply "Mmmm. I think I'll have the soup please." 

Yes I know I live in the sub-tropics of beautiful, sunny Queensland, but will someone please tell my staff that it's time they bought some heating. They're always banging on about how it's only chilly for about a month and that all they need to do is wear a few more layers of clothing. Well hello! What about me and Badger? We can't trundle down to the nearest fat person repository (shopping centre), whip out a visa card and come away with a nice warm woolly jumper can we. All we can do is rub two pieces of dry bush chocolate together and set fire to our bedding and there's not much future in that when you're confined inside a metal cage. Hells Bells! Badger and I can't even cuddle up to each other for warmth since we're in separate cages, all because whenever we're together I try to bonk his brains out. I ask you. What's wrong with that? Thankfully, the temperature rarely drops below ten degrees centigrade here at night, so you probably think I'm being a bit of a wimp, but it's all relative isn't it? All the same I can't help wondering how all those piggies living in really cold climates like Canada manage. Do they find a polar bear to snuggle up to? Or is it just that their staff aren't as bloody tight-fisted as mine? 

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