Dear oh dear. Dear oh dear oh dear. Let me explain in an excerpt:
"Happy New Year to you too - hoping for more happiness for you in this one than last. Also hoping you can come visit us before long. Life in Brussels is good, though frustrating in its places; the drivers here are fucking horrible sociopaths- like Italy without the style or the Alfas. As a pedestrian I'm in daily fear for my life.
In fact, this morning while I was walking to work. I had three or four near misses - as usual. Then a car nearly hit me while it was pulling into a parking garage. The driver honked, so without even looking up I mouthed 'fuck off', flipped a bird, and kept walking. Again as usual. I thought I heard someone shouting after me but didn't want to stop in case the driver was an English expat who was pissed I'd used naughty language in front of his kids. Turned out the driver was a friend of ours who I'd been out for drinks with the night before, who'd pulled into the sidewalk to say hi! Luckily he had a sense of humour about it, but I made a New Year's resolution to always make eye contact before I drop the f-bomb from now on."
Those of you who know my parents know I'm not ill-bred, so I don't know who to blame here. Probably myself, but you know I have problems with that. In fact, last night I toppled the F-word's MacBook from the kitchen table. Potential catastrophe. Yet I actually managed to nearly lose my temper with him when he called me clumsy. Whereas if he'd dropped my laptop from the kitchen table, sweet Beulah rentboy knows what I would have called him.
Of course, an angry glare would probably suffice to make my laptop shiver apart at the seams, whereas the F-word's is a MacBook that seemingly nothing can harm besides a naughty world full of incompatible applications.
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