Fag Hag Diary


And FH gets given a ‘courtesy car’.

It was all down-hill from here...

After her traumatic, near-fatal, Dallas-meets-EastEnders style car accident (exactly how long am I allowed to milk this for do you think…?) the Fag Hag was told she’d be given a courtesy car to drive.

I waited with anticipation for a hunky Danny Zuko style mechanic to cruise up in an Audi TT – and instead was rewarded with a man who looked not unlike the chronically obese one out of Pop Idol in a Mazda that reeked of fags. Ambassador, you are so not spoiling us.

But do you know, after a few days the Fag Hag has grown to love that Alan Partridge style motor – men who look like Syed from The Apprentice check me out, I can hang a jacket from a hook in the back as if I’m off to a conference and most importantly, I get to listen to songs like ‘Easy Lover’ and tap the steering wheel like a Norwich salesman off to meet his ropey 50-something mistress…


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One comment to “Fag Hag Diary”

  1. It would have been much better if you got a curtsy car, that did little curtsys when you saw someone important.

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