You really cannot beat retail therapy. The Cousin and I hit the shops hard - having never had an interest in appearance, I've suddenly grown a liking of shopping for clothes. My excuse for shirts not fitting is starting to wear thin however. "Its my shoulders" I insisted "They're too broad." "No," replied The Cousin, "Its quite definitely the beer..."
I opted out of much of a debauched evening. Just supped Guinness in a pub and enjoyed some chilli ramen in Wagamamas. I can feel ominous rumblings. My stomach is muttering things along the lines of "I thought we'd agreed a cease fire on spicy foods and red meat? Don't say you weren't warned..."
The reason for the lack of debauchery is that I have a date at the weekend and as The Cousin leered: "You don't want to sap your strength"
Charming. I'm a perfect gentleman.
