I don’t need men. I can get on better in life without them. No trouble or stress. And it’s cheaper to pay someone to do the odd jobs when you factor in the injuries and mistakes usually made.
I went along to the local hardware shop to see if Mr Jones knew of any reliable handymen (tsk, I know, a reliable man!) and he gave me the number of David.
When I called him he agreed to come straight round to have a look at all of the jobs that had been bodged by my ex.
When I opened the door, I was speechless. He was beautiful.
I needed this man and was going to make him mine. I asked him a few questions whilst leaning across the table as he drank his tea.
The gist of it is that he isn’t single and “her” name is Geraint. Bloody men.