Life for Lola

Been asked by Lofty at work what I shall be wearing to the wedding. I must say if the weather forecast is anything to go by it won't be flimsy. No, I suppose I shall settle on tweed, I'll also roll up the barbour and tuck it under my arm just in case.

The Ladyfriend expressed her reservations about going to Windsor, I shot her a look that would wither an egg sandwhich. I would go alone but I worry about looking like one of those nut case loners who camp out at such events and always end up on ITV. I couldn't risk it. She's coming along, I've promised that I will treat her to a Charles and Camilla commerative ash tray for her trouble.

Getting back to the election, I see that horrendous Blur bloke has promised more money to poor families. It gets my goat. What do I get? All the poor do is squander their extra income on sportswear, ciggies and mobile phones. The Ladyfriend said "the poor have got their priorities all wrong" and she's right.

You'd get my vote if you start channelling a bit of cash my way Mr Blur. Give me a rebate because of the unlikely hood of me ever taking maternity leave. Let me pick up a bit of extra wonger for paying the same amount of tax even though I don't burden the school system. Children don't vote lovey, Lesbians do!