Aside from mists and mellow fruitfulness, autumn is the season in which Curmudge is once again packed with nubile young freshers. So Frau Grumpy and I have been trawling the bars in search of a partner (gender immaterial) for a drug-fuelled threesome. Like you do.
I wouldn't bore you with this everyday tale of everyday folk, only - can you believe it? - some evil fascist hag has accused us of being sleazy. Our mortification knows no bounds. Honestly, doesn't she know what century she's living in? Thank goodness the heterosexual troilist community has protested on a scale which will hopefully ensure she never works again. Let her consume away like a snail.
(hat tip: the Dumb One)
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