April 07, 2011

A Triumvirate

Scents by !Zang-sama*
 I recall, many moons ago, Father Craig (and here I may do him a dis-service) telling me that everything came in threes. Good, or bad. Much like the tinity. I have always agreed. Today, I have yet another reason to believe in the law of threes.

Standing on the escalator, coming out of the tube station at Turnpike Lane, I found my self stood behind a fairly well dressed woman. I looked up, to see the passing distance and right at that unfortunate moment, I discovered she had a finger, up to the first knuckle, shoved up her bum through her skirt. It appeared to be quite itchy as said finger was moving at pace.

Smiling to myself I swiped my card at the turnstile and headed for the stairs.

Walking up the stairs I followed a young man in jeans, who, at that very moment, farted in my face. I coughed and spluttered. He turned to look at me but did not have the good grace to look embarrassed.

The third took the shape of a young woman, whom, like many, wears leggings as trousers. This is not a good look and is often akin to sausages fit to bursting their skins. For this poor unfortunate woman, it was no different. The tights were stretched thin over her thighs and backside, so much so, that the very stripey and colourful boyleg underpants she had on were plain to see.

And hence, my trio ends. The scratcher, the stinker and the stretcher.


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