I expect all you young folk about town think there is nothing worse than being too hot in a night club. Well there is, much worse. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you STARKERS!.
I'm truly baffled by nudism, more so in a club setting. There you are jigging away when your eye alights on a likely conquest only to glance down and note they are hung like a mouse or their nipples bounce off their kneecaps as they dance. That type of disappointment is okay when you've got them home and in your drunken state have begun to think of them as a great wit, but if you see the whole package upfront, you're not going to go any further. I can't see the attraction in it.
Moving on, you will be relieved to hear that the ruler of 'The Lost Mertonian' responded to my heartfelt appeal and has joined my mischief. There is still room at the mischief for more magpies. If any lurkers fancy writing a post a week for us, make yourselves known.
Finally, I fell asleep when I got home from work and didn't wake up until eleven. Now I cannot sleep and have been condemned to blog the night away. Hence the post at this ungodly hour.