This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. As ever this work is dedicated to my personal deities of hearth and home, my beloved dictators, Dick and Shane.
Gone they might be, but they still manage to cast their antique influence over us modern mortals in a variety of ways. Take Achilles for example. Lie detector snorts, you once read a kiddies book of myths and legends and most of it was in pictures. Okay, okay, but those pictures were incredibly detailed.
Achilles was the son of an immortal mother and a mortal father. There were no Social Services then, you could do what you liked. However, the un-dead daft bat forgot to wet the heel she dangled him by, thus leaving him vulnerable at that point.
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Achilles grew up fine, strong and immortal, albeit with a small print clause he had declined to read - failure to wear chain mail socks at all times will invalidate your life insurance. He was also as thick as ancient Greek pig shit. Why else would he have elected to go into battle against a tribe of aggressive chiropodists wearing a gold lame evening gown and a pair of patent leather sling backs that left his heels totally exposed to enemy weapons.
He could be the patron saint of brats everywhere. When he was called up for service in The Trojan War, Achilles was not pleased. He came up with a cunning plan to dodge the draft by dressing up as a woman, but he forgot to wax his legs and Odysseus sussed him. Okay, I feel a slight tangent coming on. In spite of my old school teacher's warnings about wandering off the subject, I'm going to go with it. Sorry, Miss. According to a painting I once saw of Achilles, he had muscles that could lay claim to being independent territories but a cock the size of a winkle.
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It set me off pondering, it doesn't take much, I love a good ponder. Surely any painter set on depicting one of the most famous heroes of the Trojan War would opt to give him a magnificent dick in keeping with his status, one that could be used as a battering ram in the event of a siege situation? Instead, the artist chose to give him a todger and ball bag that would embarrass a cherub. Perhaps he was running out of flesh coloured paint at that point and decided to skimp, or perhaps it was an ironic comment on the futility of war?
Who knows! Artists are funny folk and a tiny cock could mean many things. Being a well-balanced sort of chap I actually have two Achilles heels, one on each foot.
More Fun with Dick and Shane - Memoirs of a Houseboy 2007
One fuels the other and tends to make a bad situation even worse. Because of Achilles I end up at odds with my men folk far more often than I should. On that particular weekend, Dick had been called south by the imperious and chilly tones of his mama. He was due to be away from Friday afternoon until Sunday evening. Shane was also away on business that Friday, but was due to return later the same day.
Being an optimistic sort of house lad, I was looking forward to spending some quality time alone with my alpha Daddy.
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As things turned out it was fantastic. He wined me, dined me, bought me flowers and new clothes, wrote me a love sonnet in iambic pentameter, and told me he adored me. Lie Detector says, in your Mills and Boons little fantasies, boy. The alarm snapped on at six. I silenced it, lay for a few moments and then got out of bed. I pulled on boxers and a t-shirt and went over to the window, parting the blind slats in order to see what the weather was doing. It was doing pretty much what it had done for days past.
Fun With Dick And Shane
It was raining. The sound of water reminded my bladder it was full and I headed to the ensuite bathroom to pee. Afterwards I washed my hands and then inspected my face in the mirror, experiencing a swell of angst as I noted a fresh eruption of pimples around my nose and chin. The bloody things were never ending. Dick materialised in the bathroom.
The book that started it. The Story of Friday. The Homecoming Story. A Fitting Little Warning.
Blackpool Rock. Book Two. Memoirs of a Houseboy.
I've enjoyed it. I hope you do too. The Houseboy And The Butterfly. The Houseboy Strikes Back. A Train Journal. Book Three. This rightly belongs with my memoir, but I decided to give it a book of its own. It's all about Dick and Shane's Civil Partnership, which was nothing to them, but a pretty big deal to me. Book Four. Bonds of Affection. Also available on Amazon and Amazon UK. Gilliflowers -. Chapter List. Frail Daffodils for the Ancient Dead. Jottings on a Saturday Afternoon in February. Easter Bleatings. Not the Man from Del Monte.
Captain Pugwash and the Bank Holiday Mutineer. Birthday Annotation. Who Knows Where the Time Goes. Gooseberry Fool. Waking the Chihuahua. Day of Reckoning. The Winter Houseboy. Excerpt From Gilliflowers. August