Our son was born in the April of next year. We argued just a little over a name for him, but we eventually settled our difference and agreed on a name... Bella was adamant that when the weather was right we should go up the hill and introduce our son to our ancestors. Remembering what happened the last time she sought to do that I was quite happy, but determined to avoid the stinging nettles this time. Thus it was that one day in June we settled the baby in a carry-cot and between us we carried. It passed the time anyway. “I wouldn’t say small,” she replied, “just quick. Five strokes and it’s all over.” “You should find someone better hon, maybe get yourself a boy-friend or something.” “Its worse when he gets drunk,” said Roopa, “He gets horny but can’t get it up, and when he drinks I drink so I’m horny as hell as well but all I got in front of me is his soft noodle.” “I have the opposite problem,” I said. “I can get it up but takes me ages to finish.” “Bullshit,” she replied. “All men. More

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