Originally Posted by
Organ Morgan.
There isn't a woman alive who's off his radar providing the price is right.
He's eagerly looking forward to laying his hands on some "Chrimbo crumpet" as he plots which office pub booze-ups to attend.
His motivation is to remove a pair of frilly kecks for the lowest possible cost. That's usually £0.00 so experienced is he at targeting the most unsteady and giggliest female in the bar. His maximum spend equates to whatever a glass of the cheapest lager is.
I asked him once whether he would break his own rules to facilitate throwing a leg over his ultimate fantasy figure, Lorraine Kelly (an annoying Scottish bint who's on breakfast telly). He gave the question some thought before uttering: "a tenner, maybe."
"A fecking tenner?!" I responded contemptuously. That caused some embarrassment. He shifted uneasily in his seat and puffed his cheeks out several times before responding grudgingly with: "well, between 15 and 20 quid, then."
What a rotten cheapskate that guy is!
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