Anyone partake in Movember this year? I didn’t. You see removing my facial fur transforms my phiz into what I would imagine Billy Corgan and J K Simmon’s to resemble having been fused together at a molecular-genetic level. Like in ‘The Fly’, but instead of a housefly they were joined in the tele-pod by a fucking moomin. It’s not pretty. Mothers scream, babies wail and grown men have been known to uncontrollably soil themselves on sight of my freshly cleaver’d dish.
Now as an alternative, I considered selling some old knitwear and donating the funds to a good cause of my choice. But then I clocked eyes these Turtlenecks from Howlin’ and that put pay to my fleeting charitable inclination. Please don’t judge me.
These woollen knits are proper, yet I’m fearful wearing a turtleneck may lead to me roasting chestnuts on an open fire and watching films like ‘The Holiday’ featuring that absolute spunk-biscuit Jude Law. Not that I could ever bring myself to sit through such contrived dross. And even if I did it would only be because my lass really likes it and nothing to do with it making me feel all happy and warm inside or anything.