That mare, Marjorie, has turned my lovely Television room into a music conservatoire. She's been angling for that for ages. The kiniving cow!
She's such a spoilt tart! And I've just tripped over yet another pair of new bloody shoes!
Even worse is that we've got her stupid snotty cousin staying with us! Bitch used to give me Chinese burns when we were young 'uns.
And she's brought her nit-ridden, illegitimate son with her! Who seems to be constantly in the shower! Still, at least someone uses that ridiculously expensive thing!!
And I have to say, the bally dining room looks a lot less loveless now that bloody piano's out of the way!
Though it leaves us with the problem of where the bally TV set goes! To my amazement, Marjorie suggested it went into our hallowed Drawing room.
"But it would kill our conversation time dead!", I protested.
"But it would kill our conversation time dead!", I protested.
"Precisely!", she grinned.
"Now, do be quiet. The Call Centre is on!"
Mare!!
Mare!!