The Soph and I undertook a flyingly fast visit to Chav HQ (aka Worcester) this evening, for an Italian meal at, der, Little Venice.
We walked in, sat, ordered, drank, ate, ate again, ate some more, drank again, paid and were out again in fifty-five minutes.
How cool are we?
But my friends there was much strangeness observed.
Girls strolling around the centre of Worcester at 20.00 when the ambient external temperature reached a heady 2c, wearing…
Fuck all Nothing whatsoever.
Well, next to
fuck all nothing whatsoever.
When (bearing in mind the temperature) they’re teetering around town in their ‘fuck me’ shoes, micro-skirts and sleeveless summer dresses (it’s 20.00 and plus 2c!!!!) I think that constitutes
Fuck All nothing whatsoever, don’t you?
A new phrase was coined – at least I think it’s new (put it this way, I haven’t heard it before so I’m claiming it!)…
Right, it’s 21.29 and that’s bed because the alarm is going to do its stuff at 05.15.