15/09/2023
My Facebook feed is packed with adverts for funeral plans and erectile dysfunction treatments. I couldn’t give a flying bumcheek about my funeral, just put me in a landfill. As for erectile dysfunction, not so much. It’s more that my little ti**le has become more discerning with age, saving its efforts for truly worthwhile occasions rather than preparing for action when ANY woman was within 50 yards. Or I was on a bus. The only exception being in the mornings, when for some reason the stupid thing forgets that I went to bed alone and seems to operate on the presumption that Claudia Winkleman might have crept in beside me at some point during the night. Nothing that a good slam in the bathroom door can’t sort. Anyway, the point is I’d prefer to see adverts for funicular railways if any of you lot have some influence with the powers that be.
