to be disappointed that Hullygully doesn't have a Twitter account like in my dream?

[OTheHugeManatee]

In my dream last night Hullygully had a very funny Twitter page. But I just went and checked, and twitter.com/hullygully is some bloke called Nick.

Mine croons love songs and showers compliments upon me. At the weekends it brings roses.

I used to spend a lot of my childhood trying to replicate exactly the sound of a hoover. And an air raid siren (I'm 29, so can't have had that much exposure to the latter, or hoovers for that matter).

When I were a lass and all round here were nobbut fields, I used to sit in pillboxes (not the medicine dispensers obv), screw my eyes tightly shut and wish for a dead German to appear, slumped over his machine gun. I'd open my eyes full of anticipation.

Ditto feeling my way through my parents' wardrobe in anticipation of Narnia.

I was perpetually disappointed.

I'm quite enjoying that Hully, did you know my name was Lulu?

dear lord.

what have I done?

I think I'm being rebuffed.

Manatee, is your hoover a Henry by chance?

How did you know, Lulu? Are you mn-ing from my broom cupboard?

Anyhow, enough of all this. What's Nick been up to this afternoon?

Does your hoover call you Showy?

Or are you just still trying to make us call you Showy?

It calls me 'mistress' actually. You may do the same if you insist. Please don't though.

No probs Handsy :o

Mine doesn't dare speak to me. It keeps its eyes cast down and its dreams humble.

I'm still nervous about the thought that LoopyLoops actually lives in my broom cupboard.

My Hoover could be telling her all sorts of things.