(posted by Aunt Cyn)
One thing Mike never prepared me for when we discussed taking my first nervous steps onto the internet was how wonderfully joyous a thing email is. I now have my hotmail account – to which none of you, I hasten to add, have chosen to email me with any of your highly amusing deeply sensitive personal problems for my Agony Aunt column – and already I have about twenty emails. I never knew you could buy so much on the net! I was bewildered by the vast array of Viagra on offer, but have bought £150 worth from an address in Germany, because – well, because I’d like to try it on my new German handyman, if I’m honest. Seems like a nice boy, and he believes that I’m 43 when I tell him too. Which makes him a very nice boy indeed.
Order made, I suddenly had a message pop up on my screen. Seems that a man on the East Coast of the USA wanted to ‘chat’ to me about having a ‘good time’. I was about to describe to you some of the immensely colourful words he used, but I’m just checking Mike’s instructions again and apparently I’m not supposed to use words like that in case the site gets ‘Googled’.
Googled?
He was very nice anyway, this chap. We were getting on so well, chatting away about my gardening habits and how I need a new pair of rubber gloves. Then he went and spoiled it all by telling me that he wanted to **** my ******* **** off. (I censored that, because I have a feeling some of the Liechtenstein Ladies’ Circle might be looking in for a read – I told them that I’m now ‘online’ and ‘surfing’ and ‘chatting’ and they were very impressed. I’ve even got some search requests to do for them tonight, although I’m not sure whether surgical stockings are available in leather. Oh well).
Don’t forget: auntiecyn@hotmail.com if you need to get in touch and share your woes, ills and peculiar perversions with me and the rest of the internet community.
I must go feed the squirrels. Night night.
Cynthia (Cyn to my friends, which I’m not convinced you are).