... so i said to the manservant, don't pull my royal pantaloons so hard, you'll jerk my head off.
so he downs tools, leaving me half dressed and feeling a trifle limp, as opposed to the limp trifle i had for dinner last night.
it was billed as sherry trifle - it was more like cherie bleuurgghh.

anyway, what with that and one thing and the other, i was late for my appointment at the chest wig boutique.
imagine my surprise to find kev the chauffeur stripped to the waist and being measured very carefully by a young man who had very firm intentions.
i put it to him straight, i said - put aside all thoughts of winning my heart, kev.  i'm strictly a metrosexual - in other words, it depends what the weather's like.
the young assistant chipped in that it was hot and sticky, so i gave him one of my looks.  he thanked me and said he'd wear it always.

so that was that.
i remain bare chested.
it just won't do.
scunthorpe hilton bought me a gold medallion and they look best against a monkey chest, don't they?

anyway, that's enough about me.
how was your day?