Ladies and Gentlemen, members of the press….
I had a day drinking healthy liquids and a little workout in the gym. I swam in the pool and had just an hour lozzocking in the sunshine round the pool. And then, feeling horrible (my god, I’d forgotten what an abominable place the world can be without a pair a beer goggles), I went to the mall - along with, apparently the entire population of Houston.
New sunglasses were the order of the day. I get through sunglasses at the same rate that other people get through bic pens or Q-tips. The Dutch are currently embarking on a plan to reclaim a square mile of land from the sea by mounding my mislaid sunglasses into a 10ft high dyke.
In Houston it seems you can walk into a restaurant naked so long as you are wearing the latest Prada eye fashion.
It may be me, but Houston doesn’t really seem like a place to wander around in. Apart from anything else it’s far too bloody hot and humid for someone who comes from a slightly more temperate clime, and I hate making a squelching noise when I walk. The insides of my fat little thighs chap after a while.
And it’s even less photogenic than I am so I won’t inflict any pictures on you, unless you’ve a fetish for concrete, in which contact me privately, (well, any fetish for that matter).