Oly, that’s a terrible thing to say! My red Ferrari has nothing to do with my SugarDaddy chained to the dungeon wall-! Nor does my black one, or the silver one! So there-! Nyah-!
(OK OK, so the Aston Martin MIGHT have a little do with sugardaddies… after all, I could have ended up with only DaTax’s never-bought '66 Mustang if Hubby hadn’t mumbled out something like “DB9”.)
After all, it’s HIS midlife crisis. But Hubby’s never needing those cars. No, he’s only screaming about “Let me out!! Save me! She’s trying to kill me!” Silly things like that.
“Midlife crisis,” that’s all I have to tell the police before they go away. Most of them can’t read Morse Code, thankfully.
That reminds me - I’ve got to seal up those wooden shutters.
