it's 80's night at the 'black pudding a'go'go' tonight.
that rules me out because i'm well under that age.

but doris and flossie are keen to go - even now they are climbing into their shiny hot pants and high heeled wellies.
i say hot pants.
but i imagine they use less material for a wedding marquee.

now i have to decide what to wear, as befits my status as the king.
the king!
that's it!
i'll go dressed as elvis - a white nylon shirt with all the buttons undone;  a flesh coloured cushion stuffed down to replicate his beer belly; and a chest wig, perhaps. 
i'll dig out an old pair of white chamois leather trousers, too (well, you never know when these things will come in handy - i have regularly demisted the windscreen with a quick swish of the buttocks. gave me a bad back but at least we avoided driving into a ditch).

i'll let you know how we get on ...