Sat outside Cent Otre on Edinburgh’s George Street all afternoon yesterday and got a burnt face. Spent the previous days mumping and moaning about how awful the weather was so the second there is a glint of light from above pal we find a bar and sit outside with unprotected face upturned to the flaming ball in the sky. Fool. I now look like someone has forced my head under a hot sizzling grill and held it there for half an hour. So now comes the unplanned exfoliation which is already begining to happen. Shards and flaps of face are coming off.
‘Yeuch’ was all Teenwolf managed to utter as he came sloping in the door having grown another 3 inches over night.
He is now making me feel like an Oompah Loompah towering over me with his long legs and disdainful air. He pats me on the head and calls me Frodo. How much do you think I would get for him on Ebay?
His feet are now bigger than the long suffering husband’s (lsh) (size 11)which means we are yet again on the hunt for the cheap shoe shop that does massive foot coverings. I am currently going through all the Henderson’s in the phonebook to see if I can find Bigfoot. I know he lives with one of them and I’m optomistic if he can’t point us in the right direction we might at least get a cast off.
Off to slather myself in moisturiser and wander the streets cos I ain’t sitting through 6 hours of USA Masters golf for anyone or any amount of money. Maybe I ‘ll just wrap up in some black sacking & wander up to The Royal Mile to scare tourists with this crinkle cut chip face and pretend to be a scabby old ghost or more realistically rent myself out to landlords at closing time.
I could clear a bar in 35 seconds by wearing a bikini but I reckon I could get it down to 25 seconds by showing up with this face. If I did both at the same time everyone might just drop down dead. Too much I know too much.