Fag Hag Diary

Not in these shoes...

The Fag Hag found herself having a spot of car trouble yesterday. White smoke started coming out of the engine, in such quantities I thought someone was about to emerge from under the bonnet announcing, ‘Tonight, Matthew…’ So I decided it was time to go all Confessions of an AA Man.

Before long turned up Chas in his Prison Break boots and luminous coat. Hmmm, quite cute in a rough trade/bent copper way. ‘Is the smoke a bad thing?’ I smiled, cocking my head like a southern belle. ‘Well, it ain’t good love. You need to walk to a garage and get some oil.’

A Mui Mui bag and a gold wedge? With an oil? And a garage? Not a cocktail being served up in my bar, honey. So I did a cat from Shrek eyes on Chas. ‘Please,’ I begged. ‘You seem so kind. And nice. And strong.’ And do you know it worked. Which just goes to show, ask nicely and ye shall receive. Oh, and also thrust out your tits and bend over repeatedly exposing your arse crack… did I forget to mention that bit?

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