My left knee is bigger than my right knee.
My left knee is bigger than my right knee after I fell off a mountain bike in the French Alps, having run away in June at the first sniff of a lifted-lockdown travel restriction, (I just said it was to join the circus) but definitely in the company of Mr X whom I met (before lockdown) at a comedy club.
I know it sounds unlikely. Tiger pointed out (quite rightly) I had known Mr X for less time than she had known a bag of lentils.
My only reply was that I also carry a Best Before date so I had better get moving.
Maybe my tribe could mark my death date with reminiscences of that time Mother threw back the front door, shouting, I'm going to France. Don't ask me where, but I'll be back in about a month. Please water the lobelia.
Anyway, I have returned home. I have had a jolly good time and the Border Force know where I live.
Also, Knicker Drawers is getting back to business.
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