I'll be off down to The Minnis tonight, Birchingtons' secret gay bar, for a wild evening out with one of my regular boyfriends. The Fat River Band are going to be funking the place up and it all shows promise of being a 'blistering' evening.
I'd love to tell you who he is but, as he's married with kids AND a high-flying pillar of the community, I don't think that'd be fair on him. Mind you, I happen to know that his wife is getting some from the milkman but I'm pretty sure that he doesn't know, so the less said about that, the better!
I really don't like the idea of keep referring to him as 'that bloke' though, so let's call him Samuel.
Anyway, Samuel is a doctor of proctology and WOW!!!, does he know his stuff!
It's fortuitous that I'm meating him tonight, as I'd like to discuss a problem with him that'll be right up his alley. Ever since all those shenanigans with Horse the other night, I've been walking like John Wayne and my poor old love socket is like a clown's pocket.
I'm sure he'll know how to rectumfy matters.