One of the collection, no.64 I believe , referred to me as her BOYFRIEND the other day.
I pointed out that I was , in fact, her owner. She was displeased at this and didn't join in my morning bath with the others. Ah well. It reminds me of many years ago, chap called Manny Kulkowski, off his head with some sort of powder, tried to sell me some women. I said to him as I would say to anybody "Manny, those are leopards".
He was very embarrassed by his mistake, and was unsure what to do with his life.
I suggested he write articles on the mundane and the extraordinary with his undead friend Winston. He muttered some bollocks about a robot from the future and staggered away giggling maniacally. Never saw the chap again. Still, bloody women, eh?
