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I don't mind the Jehovah's Witnesses calling

 I have always liked the Jehovah's Witnesses. But I think I'll have to drop their HQ a line to complain. They very naughtily knock on the door in pairs, today, one a middle-aged gentleman who dressed like a Job Centre civil servant from the 1970's, the other, an extremely attractive girl in her late twenties/early thirties whom you'd want to ask if she'd care to help you book a cruise with the sole intention of not going out on deck too often with her (wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more!), thus keeping the ports of call strictly within the cabin.

Today's very attractive co-caller was a rather prim and proper Lily James lookalike who would otherwise have scored an admirable 11 in the Dudley Moore film "10".

Tempted though I was to ask exactly what they had witnessed and to state that as I don't get involved - that makes me somewhat of a Jehovah's Bystander - following a few pleasantries and a leaflet titled "Will I survive" (well, the mighty Gloria Gaynor did!) they then went on their merry (!) way, all without insult from me.

Presumably, they were off to not watch the Man City football match on the TV's they don't own, unlike me. I do have a TV, but ain't the least bit interested, although I do hope they win (that is, Man City and not the JW's - the JW's ain't playing as far as my limited knowledge of football goes).

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