To continue the finger play some yasai yakitori would be lovely... blow it, make it negima... after the last few months in the Maldives detoxing under the watchful glare of Frau Eidlewein I need to get my canines in some god blessed MEAT!

Suddenly all those curious young beaus are looking a little nervous. Was it something I said? I would blush but I don't seem to have that little trick in my clutch. I'll stick to a contemplative gaze instead.

But my dearest Scot, after my recent absence by the Laccadive sea, sleeping under the light of actual and not human stars, I am simply gasping for the detritous of Soho... hair dryers that are not reliant on the wiles of a generator (always female in gender in my experience, prone to conking out when someone less shaped like a prow of boat wishes to beautify themselves, jealous in their limited femininity) are the simplest of my requirements that Soho can fulfill... the rest are too depraved to mention... but sweet talk me and I probably will...

Dotty xx