Stan’s wig

Emile was deeply asleep on Stan’s pillowsStan wore a wig in bed so Emile could stick his claws into it without scratching Stan..though the lady in the shop where Stan bought it assumed he was a transvestite.This is what happened in the shop:
After being scratched on the head by Emile, who slept on Stan’s pillow,Stan had decided he must buy himself a wig.Seeing how it was a very cold summer,anyroads,it would keep him warm.He went out and took the car onto the road.
Come on Emile,you can read the map for me to get us to the wig shop
on the other side of Knittingham.
Why don’t you get Sat Nav? the naughty little cat answered.
Why should I when I prefer Cat Nav…. and you are always good company.
How flattering, purred Emile,putting on his spectacles which had gold rims.
When they reached the Wig Shop “Fakes and Fantasy” in Eastside Road Emile was so tired with navigating he went to sleep and Stan ventured nervously into the shop.
Are you alright, sir? a charming lady asked.
What are you looking for?Some viagra perhaps?
No, no!
A vibrator?
I get enough vibration in my old car!I am looking for a wig.
But your hair is quite thick!Ah,I see… a lady’s wig?
Yes,he whispered,Exactly.
I think an auburn wig would suit you.
The colour is no concern…I shall only wear it in bed.
Does your wife mind you being a transvestite?
I’m not a transvestite,I sleep with the cat!
Well,whatever turns you on as long as it does no harm to anyone or the cat.It’s a free country.
A free country..I pay my income tax gladly…for if I was not getting a pension from the Civil Service I would not be liable for tax.It’s a privilege to pay tax!
I am glad you feel that way,the lady replied,I am a liberal myself but of the “lefter than thou” school of thought.
A leftover liberal,he joked.
And it’s no longer very free here..soon they will monitor our emails.
I’ve not written you any emails,Stan murmured softly.
Not yet,but most men I meet send me emails!
Well,what’s your address,he said seductively.
It’s  katlover.me@yoohoomail.co.uk or

mary.isaac-newton78@googledmail.com

Why have you  got 2 addresses,he whispered to her
Oh,I can’t remember.I also have a   gmail one.My user name is covetgarden.rose
Don’t you mean coventgarden?
Well,it’s too late now.I’ve just applied as covet!
You should be more careful.You may attract the wrong type of person.
Do you think there is a wrong type?
Well,avoid a very egocentric person or one who seems to be after your money or your maidenhead.
I am 25 years old and after a few boxes of super large tampax I no longer have a maidenhead.
That’s why the Bishop’s banned them!
All I say is.. let a Bishop experience menstruation,commuting and modern tight clothes and then I shall heed their advice.
I see,muttered Stan,You seem a very intriguing young lady.Have you ever thought of having a blog?
No,never.I am unable to think of a blog title.
How about,
“It’s bleeding obvious.”?
What is?
That’s the title.
I see.It’s a bit rude.
Well,you need to draw attention to yourself.
I have enough alread..
Thank you so much.I do feel I am your man despite the age gap.
To get back to my purchase…I’ll take a long red wig that is machine washable.
Very wise,the girl responded.I do hope your cat will like it.It’s polyester but feels very nice.
How much is it? asked Stan.
Half a crown,she replied.
Here you are I have a florin and two three penny bits.
I’ll save those for my Xmas pudding,she cried happily.
What a good idea,Stan howled.
Clutching the wig in one hand he tried to get out of the shop without knocking over a mound of vibrators stacked my the exit.
In my day,we never needed a vibrator,he told the asistant.
We could vibrate naturally.
Oh,those good old days…. when love was as natural as a flash of lightning or a shower of hailstones…
as natural as having a very clever Prime Minister like Harold Wilson..
Those were the days,my friend
When we thought we could change the world
And now we are disillusioned
But we may as well love each other,anyway.
They even say,
It’s love that makes the world go round.
So love someone today,please.
Visit an old person or a lonely neighbour.
Throw a party tonight!