Indian giver

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Good morning darlings, today is a beautiful day. A glorious morning and so far everything is swell. No pillow face, no spots, delivery here on time, tradesman arrived at the crack of dawn( wonders will never cease) and the perfect cup of tea in bed. We even have sunshine and birdsong.

Doesn’t the day make a difference ? One shall put a curl in ones hair, wear a pretty frock and adorn ones throat and ears with pearls.

One believes a girl cannot be bought, a gift is a gift. Ones word is ones bond.
For services rendered ( or future services)? Not on your nelly.

Any man that takes back a present is a cad and a bounder. The exception is when the item is an heirloom and expected to stay in his family. Even then one would be hard pressed to part with it.

The same cannot be said for for a certain Swedish chap who is at present trying to fling his perma tanned former lover of 10 tumultuous years out of his swish Belgravia pad and out on to the streets. When love flies out of the window it appears that you are expected to follow it.

The lady in question has it on good authority from her psychics that all will be well. Now, doesn’t that make us all feel better?

Greed is extremely ugly, one gets what one deserves in life my darlings. Simply by shacking up with someone that has does not entitle one a cut. Earn it.
Gold diggers beware, there is always a younger prettier gold digger to take ones place.

What ever happened to getting a good old fashioned job?

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Slippery when wet.

Zsa Zsa Gabor picked up a few tips/trinkets and husbands along the way.

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” I’ve never hated a man enough to give him back diamonds”

Funny, neither have I .

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