Imagination : Old Man Heap

It all started with Oliver. My little car.

Someone will NOT spend any money on having MY car fixed and Governmentally Made roadworthy.

So I imagined HIS punishment if Oliver is left to rot.


Apparently (according to me) there are many HEAPS dotted around the UK where these grumpy old men, with their latest bank statement and driving license, are taken to in the middle of the night by their unhappy wives.

They are thrown in a heap to be claimed by desperate women in search of ….?

Sort of like Thai/Russian brides in reverse.

I told him to Google it. All he found was the fact that these poor, rejected, unwanted men are only fed once a day on gruel.

But how do y’all women know about these places?

We whisper in a true sister ear, love.

AHA. You want to trade me in for a younger model.

Don’t be stupid. I’ve had sons. I’m NOT being Mother to a younger model. That’s plain crazy.

Kissy. Kissy. You’d NEVER send me there. I KNOW you couldn’t.

Y’all get to sniff a Viagra pill once a day.

WTF? VIAGRA. I DON’T NEED THAT SHIT!!!!

Be kind to Oliver, dearly beloved, and I may rethink my thunks :o)

P.S. Someone is reconsidering his Miserly Ways and the usefulness of his Manhood? ? ?

LAUGH OUT LOUD.

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