Today it feels like spring and it just doesn't seem so desolate walking about Belfast. I took Battle Cat for a walk and I'd my best new togs on (I figured since I've been fired I mightened be able to afford anything decent for a while) and I was getting smiles and hellos from many a lovely lady even though I've big puffy eyes from all the boozing I've been doing. I figured since I've nothing against getting into the old drag from time to time I shouldn't have anything against using moisturiser, especially since I dehydrate myself with pink champaigne on a pretty much daily basis.
Sexy Carlos and his gang were grinding it up in the Botanic Gardens in acceptable spandex, I might do the same. I think all male joggers are just men who want to wear their spandex in public. They have every right to do so, and I might join them, although I'm not sure you can get leopard print men's joggers. Could take the sewing machine to a leotard, I suppose.
