Daylight is quite nice isn’t it? When the sun shines, the air is fresh and clear, the light hits the buildings a certain way. I’ve forgotten how nice it is, such is my love affair with the dark. Because I’m Batman.
I’ve ventured out to try to find a new pair of converse Chucks. This involves me taking a free bus to an out-of-town shopping centre, the kind of place where once you’re inside, you could be anywhere in the world. I’m also in the market for new contact lenses, as I’m blaming a large part of the reason for not being successful of late on the fact that I’ve been wearing my glasses to go out. I don’t care how hot you are, if you’re wearing glasses your chances are significantly reduced. Geek-sheek doesn’t cut it.
Three out of five ain’t bad. New cardigan in prep for winter, lenses and earphones. Missing the shoes and something else I can’t remember so it couldn’t have been that important. It’s not like shopping at home, as only only one store in the centre specialises in selling certain items. If they don’t have your size you can try somewhere else in shopping-mad Glasgow, but here it’s tough luck. Just one shop sold Converse, and with only the red colour in a size 8, that wouldn’t look so good with the kilt.
So I’m convincing myself I’m going to go out for one last hurrah. A massive night out before stopping this 10 day session for some recovery time. I’ve dressed to impress with my new cardigan, and I’m going hell for leather, a man on a mission, the last chance saloon. I’m coming out, guns blazing. Then a certain young lady takes me right out of the game.
The Cat explains that the guy she is interested in has met someone else and they are just to remain friends. Interesting, thinks I. We then proceed to have our usual running street battle of kissing and insulting each other, after doing our level best to destroy ourselves with wine in a local bar. We spot a cute kitty shyly slinking through an iron fence, and I bend down to entice it to me. Somewhere in the back of my inebriated mind is the notion that girls dig guys who can pick up cats. As soon as I’ve managed it, I’ve turned to discover my companion has gone. A feline in my arms, and one storming off. The irony was not lost on me.
Picking up cats
Daylight is quite nice isn’t it? When the sun shines, the air is fresh and clear, the light hits the buildings a certain way. I’ve forgotten how nice it is, such is my love affair with the dark. Because I’m Batman.
I’ve ventured out to try to find a new pair of converse Chucks. This involves me taking a free bus to an out-of-town shopping centre, the kind of place where once you’re inside, you could be anywhere in the world. I’m also in the market for new contact lenses, as I’m blaming a large part of the reason for not being successful of late on the fact that I’ve been wearing my glasses to go out. I don’t care how hot you are, if you’re wearing glasses your chances are significantly reduced. Geek-sheek doesn’t cut it.
Three out of five ain’t bad. New cardigan in prep for winter, lenses and earphones. Missing the shoes and something else I can’t remember so it couldn’t have been that important. It’s not like shopping at home, as only only one store in the centre specialises in selling certain items. If they don’t have your size you can try somewhere else in shopping-mad Glasgow, but here it’s tough luck. Just one shop sold Converse, and with only the red colour in a size 8, that wouldn’t look so good with the kilt.
So I’m convincing myself I’m going to go out for one last hurrah. A massive night out before stopping this 10 day session for some recovery time. I’ve dressed to impress with my new cardigan, and I’m going hell for leather, a man on a mission, the last chance saloon. I’m coming out, guns blazing. Then a certain young lady takes me right out of the game.
The Cat explains that the guy she is interested in has met someone else and they are just to remain friends. Interesting, thinks I. We then proceed to have our usual running street battle of kissing and insulting each other, after doing our level best to destroy ourselves with wine in a local bar. We spot a cute kitty shyly slinking through an iron fence, and I bend down to entice it to me. Somewhere in the back of my inebriated mind is the notion that girls dig guys who can pick up cats. As soon as I’ve managed it, I’ve turned to discover my companion has gone. A feline in my arms, and one storming off. The irony was not lost on me.