Would u lijk to greasje my flanjks?

button-man.jpg

I couldn’t stop staring at the guy sitting opposite me on the train to Devon. He looked like a button. He had a perfectly round face and round, button-y eyes. I took an instant dislike to him and couldn’t figure out why. Maybe I suffer from Koumpounophobia but it seemed to me that he was a malevolent button.

He spent the entire four-hour journey eating one delicious-looking M and S food item after another and washing it down with miniature bottles of wine. He looked really pleased with himself throughout. And I didn’t like his clothes, they were too creamy and soft. I don’t think there was a Mrs Button, and bachelors who use fabric softener are not to be trusted. As I write this, I realise I may have been jealous of his comfort levels. But he looked vacuous and had a perfectly round face, so I retain the right to be suspicious.

Anyway. Devon was good and hot and sunny and I captained an inflatable dinghy.

Then when I got home, MW sent me the best thing I’ve ever seen. It’s a kids tv show, they’re singing in Dutch, and it sounds awfully rude! I shall redouble my efforts to learn this wonderful language, which, on past experience, will mean my vocabulary should increase to 20 words by the end of the year.

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