You don't say already!!
Apparently…apparently…there are three weeks left ‘til Christmas. Not that you would notice. I mean its only written in every single newspaper, mentioned on every news broadcast, plastered across adverts to every shop and the first thing on the lips of every child old enough to know how to count and/or read a calendar.
I get the picture already, and you know what? I don’t really want to hear it!
Over. And over. And over again.
As it happens, I’m almost completely set for the festivities; I have only 3 presents left to buy, 2 cards and the wrapping paper – all of which will take place some time next weekend I believe. You can’t say I’m unorganised.
My problem is sidetracking. Take Saturday - an afternoon shopping trip with Katy down the West End to find something for relatives. What did it turn into? An ogling session at some new underwear shops we found that we didn’t know existed near Soho! They were bloody expensive though, the bra that I resisted drooling onto was £165 and I didn’t even look at the bottoms that matched. All I can say to describe the kind of stock they had was silk, ornamental and fetish-wear all mixed in to one to cater for all your needs. It was heaven in a shop!
And yes. They even sold shoes.
I’ve decided I want a pair of those things that just cover your nipples; I don’t know what they’re called (how crap am I?). I’m also thinking perhaps a pair of clamps with a chain connected so The Bloke Indoors can ‘lead’ me around the room.
Katy bought a green bra and thong set from Topshop while we were supposed to be in Topman looking at jeans.
We’re as bad as each other.
But good at it.
I get the picture already, and you know what? I don’t really want to hear it!
Over. And over. And over again.
As it happens, I’m almost completely set for the festivities; I have only 3 presents left to buy, 2 cards and the wrapping paper – all of which will take place some time next weekend I believe. You can’t say I’m unorganised.
My problem is sidetracking. Take Saturday - an afternoon shopping trip with Katy down the West End to find something for relatives. What did it turn into? An ogling session at some new underwear shops we found that we didn’t know existed near Soho! They were bloody expensive though, the bra that I resisted drooling onto was £165 and I didn’t even look at the bottoms that matched. All I can say to describe the kind of stock they had was silk, ornamental and fetish-wear all mixed in to one to cater for all your needs. It was heaven in a shop!
And yes. They even sold shoes.
I’ve decided I want a pair of those things that just cover your nipples; I don’t know what they’re called (how crap am I?). I’m also thinking perhaps a pair of clamps with a chain connected so The Bloke Indoors can ‘lead’ me around the room.
Katy bought a green bra and thong set from Topshop while we were supposed to be in Topman looking at jeans.
We’re as bad as each other.
But good at it.
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