WHAT A STUFFING AT THE KAMA SUTRA

All day I had bean singing and kicking my kan-kan dancer's legs, I was going out too-nite, going two a hi class eating plaice in Plumbridge called the Kama Sutra. I don't think it has any mitchell stars, but they say that the spuds are veritable balls of flower.
Needless two say, I wood need two be looking my best, I must knot let Chuck Corona my boyfriend and the only man in Ireland with a licence too fissle at my gansey down.
Lifeboy soap and a scrubbing brush were utulised with extreem violence and vigour.
I looked at my nude body in the full length mirror, my flawless, maidenly skin had the glow of a shaved pig. I smiled, mysterially and the petite, 18 stone beauty in the mirror smiled back.
I reached for a pear of desert sonset orange drawers and stepped daintly into them with decorum and finese. My good green frock, with the yella butterflies on it lay over the 50 gallon oil drum. I powdered my large, full face dillengely, using powder poof in leu of trowel.
I pursed my rose-bud lips out like a trout and went two work with a tube of vivid pink lipstick.
Some blusher, too bring out the contours of my hi cheek bones, I shut my Betty Davis occulars, while I slapped on mascara, like whitewash, I carefully applied two droplets of bleach into each eye, two open the irises and bring out the sparkle. I could do know more, you kan't improve on perfection, I was as nervous as a kat about two kittle, in haste, I dropped the desert sonset, orange drawers and ran two the po for a quick slash.
The Kama Sutra in Plumbridge is some plaice, its knot called a resturant, its what as known as an intimate, select little Bisto. A boy took my mammys brown duffle coat with the wooden toggles and showed us two our table. Chuck gallently held out a chair for me and I plumped myself down like a clocking hen. I looked around, the plaice was full of guppies, people with money, you could tell that by the number of Fiestas parked in the kar park.
Chuck leaned over the table, like a latinese giggleetto and whispered.
"You look perparticulary lovely too-nite my deer, the candle lite brings out the sparkle in your eyes and your nash--teeth have the glow of fresh water pearls".
"Oh Chuck" I shrieked "You are bringing a blush too my maidenly visage, all my beauty is natural, you wool find know filler or Bowtex on Rosie Ryan's face".
The waiter came over and Chuck with grate aplum ordered a bottle of Blew None whine.
"What wood you like two eat my deer?" said Chuck, "I heer the cutlets here are particulary suclent". "Oh Chuck" I shrieked-demurly "I could never eat a little song bird, my stomach wood never stand it my deer, I wood boke prefusely, pearhaps even projectially"
I waited 'till there was a lull in the conversation, the hoi-poly were talking about the best way two cure skitt-scour in calves and yelled out so the hole room could hear me.
"Gargon, bring me an eel, oh, about too foot long, but leave the head on, I don't want two be palmed off with a snake, fry it in Flora Lite, the stuff from the yella tub and garnish it with parsley, time and plenty of chunky chips." "Certaintly Madman" Said the waiter, wool that be all?" "Know Gargon" I yelled, "Is your jelly fresh? I don't want none of that tinned jelly, bring me a big, heaped bowl of strawberry jelly, that is shakin' like Jordan's plastic boobies".
I could sea the people look at me and nudge each other, "There is a gastramonic gormay" they were thinking, "There is a woman who has watched the effin Ramsey boy".
After the meel, I broke wind with extreem verocity and roared, "Put that dog out"
Then I got reagelly two my feet and headed for the krapper, with the poise and grace of Kate Moss, or a pedegreee greyhound.
When I came out, I waved my girlish, maidenly arms and roared "I wouldn't go in there for a while if I was youse" Everywan began two laugh and point, I revelled in my popularity, I was the bell of the ball, the life and soul of the party, then I saw deer Chuck point and stare at me in horror. I had only gone and tucked my good green frock, with the yella butterflies on it, into the waste-band of my desert sonset, orange drawers.
That was when I lost the head, I kicked over tables, poured ox-tale soup over a mans baldy head and threw a big plate of scampi, down a womans low-cut dress. "Oh Herbert" she roared, "That awful women has covered my mammary appendages with see food"
As the bouncer ran me two the dour I yelled, "Youse kan keep your gastramonic rubbish, give me a plate of McCains oven chips and a lump of road kill anyday"
Deer Chuck never spoke 'till we were too mile out of Plumbridge, then he pulled the Skoda into a lay-bye and said, "Rosie" said Chuck "I take my hat, cap or bonnet off too you, many a woman wood have fled in tears when their arse was exposed to the stare of the rude and mocking multitude, but knot you, you Rosie Ryan, have the conjonies of a saber-toothed tiger"
"Oh, you adorable wee doat" I shrieked, leaping on him like a deranged, hysterical Guyanese gibbon. I watched, all a tremble, as Chuck inserted the Barry White DC into the DC player, as the big gulpin began two growl, "You're my first, you're my last, you're my--everything"
Caution went out of the window, along with a crisp bag and an empty bottle of Iron Brue.
Ah, Lamore----the helter-skelter of passion and flame of wild, fierce lovey-dovey-ness.