Fag Hag has a new co-dependent sado-masochistic relationship.
My darlings, the faggy is a spent woman today. I’ve been keeping the sort of anti-social hours even Amy Winehouse’s driver would balk at, and it’s all down to a hairy beast!
I’ve been looking after Linford, my sister’s brown Burmese cat – and yes, he was named after Linford Christie because of quite uncannily similar facial characteristics but nope, bears sadly little comparison where it matters on account of having had some of the contents of his lunchbox lopped off.
Linford is needier than Geri Halliwell during her time of the month after discovering she’s been chronically cheated on. He stomps angrily across the computer when I try to work, headbutts me violently when I try to apply make-up, whacks my face with his paw when I stop stroking him and spends the hours between midnight and 7am clicking across my wooden floors with his porn star-length nails and yowling in outrage that I have abandoned him to cop some ‘z’s.
I’m in a dysfunctional, co-dependent, sado-masochistic relationship with someone who is totally lacking in balls, leaves a trail of shit everywhere he goes and is a bit of a narcissist.
Just call me Kate Moss.