Heartache, and Stomach ache

Many of you have been asking for an update on the state of my relationship with cyber-girlfriend Melissa Rhyke of Florida. Things are a bit patchy. Patchier than the denim jacket my old geography teacher used to wear in assembly.
Her 28th birthday is approaching faster than a ferret up a Yorkshireman’s trouser leg, so she asked me to fly over to America to spend the big day with her and her family. I have no money, a fear of flying, and a dislike of Americans equalled only by my dislike of Spam, so I told her I thought it a bad idea. She called me an insensitive, selfish, Limey bastard, and several other words that I must admit I had to look up on the Internet before I knew just how insulting they were. She flew off the handle quicker than a nymphomaniac caught using a saucepan to pleasure herself.
Bloody women.
The main reason I like being together in cyberspace only is that I feel I have some control over conversations, and can steer us both away from the emotional catacombs that most modern relationships seem to get lost in.
Not so, it seems.
I considered sending her some roses, but Feelgood Flowers Of Florida wouldn’t accept Clubcard vouchers, so I sent her a rosy e-card instead.
She says it may be over.
I took out my fury and anguish on a Partybag of Cadbury’s Assortments and a Chicken Biryani from the Taj.
Tomorrow I may be one girlfriend lighter, but three stone heavier, and smelly.

RC 26-8-08
2042 BST