L tells me she's lending the old Derby County football kit she has to a friend, who is doing a ‘fetish run’ for someone's birthday. The girls have to dress up in a Rams' strip and the boys have to dress up as Cheryl Cole. How quaint. Why didn’t I think of something like that for my birthday?
Oh well, at least, that’s next year sorted. Though L makes it quite clear that she’s not running near any man dressed as Cheryl Cole. It’s true. No matter how hard they try they will still look like Dick Emery. I must admit I’d have done things a little differently. I’d have got all the girls to dress up in the style of Cheryl Cole, or some other appropriate role model, and the men... well... they could wear what they liked, Rams’ strips would be fine.
I head off to dog class with the intention of fluttering my eyelashes and trying to woo another woman. You know, I think L is impressed at how many women I have in my address book... although don’t misunderstand, it’s not the woman I’m after, it’s her dog, for my team.
I am sadly disappointed because my target doesn’t make it to training this week and I end up trying to woo her husband instead. This wasn’t anywhere near as much fun but was almost as successful and I didn’t have to resort to fluttering anything.
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