A five minute commute (for you)
A non-backed out of school-night gig (for us)
One day of her as a new-born (don’t look at me like that)
A really high fence for the back garden (for them next door)
An impulse hover over the match ticket purchase button. Go on! press the damn thing.
Life insurance. Oh no, wait, you bought us that last week. Sorry.
Former colleagues. Hey, back off, those are mine.
500 tea-spoons. Only messin’. Eh calm down, I’m sure I can get some next time.
What do you think it looks like? That dime bar dessert from ten years ago you mentioned.
*holds up hanger to chin* For respectability in the workplace. What do you think? It’s probably too small.
A stash of ready-made semi-colons to insert wherever you like.
*reads back of packaging* Oh yeah, I forgot about this – a matching shame-gland to go with the work gear.
Two-for-one confidence supplements. We’re not supposed to use heavy machinery or drive for at least four hours after taking these.
Eternal spotlessness of the box-set mind. It looks more like a tanning machine to me. Still, if it means experiencing The Sopranos from scratch, who cares, eh?
department of speculation 