I was going to mention the shirt I pur-chased but then some un-named persons will presume I'm horribly materialistic and get wrapped up in my personal appearance. So I won't; suffice to say it is soooo gorgeous and I love it like it was my own child called quentin.
The curry was scrumdiddlyumptious although I'm still not certain if that's down to the exemplary cooking skills of the chef or due to the copious amounts of alcohol consumed at the table. I (obviously) was surrounded by ladies, due wholely to the ingenious seating plan of boy-girl-boy-girl, rather than any remarkable social skills I am yet to acquire.
Clubbing had been hinted at earlier on during the initial kick-off but went quickly out of favour when Oggles (so named to 1. hide his true identity and 2. if he ever became a super hero, I am protecting one of his many weaknesses) decided that clubbing sounded like a great idea. In short, after leaving the pub at closing time, we all skittered away into the night in two person groups to avoid his drunken advances of "ClUbben AnyONe?"
and now for something completely different
I understand pictures have been requested.
Pictures shall be coming shortly.
NB. Some just require air-brushing to make my HA-UGE manly form look less menacing and more rose tinted to appeal to allsorts (bassets)
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