My recovery from the Highland Fling is going slower than I thought. This is mainly because I have a ‘bit of a chest’ as my mother’s generation would say.
My generation (or me to be precise) would say I have either double pneumonia, a pulmonary embolism or throat cancer. Most likely it’s all three.
This presents itself in me sounding like a 1970’s Fiat mirafiori in the morning as I struggle to turn the engine over. The fact that the running is showing a HR about 15 BPM higher than it should also shows that I’m only running on 3 cylinders.
the reason for this is because, as I alluded to in my last post (or the one before that), of my prediction for cross dressing and standing about looking like a reject from a transvestite convention in the freezing cold so that my brother could look good for his 40th Birthday.
For all the straight men out there thinking this look could work for them I have the following advice:
- You will freeze your block and tackle off.
- It is very hard to look elegant as you scratch your ass in a dress.
- There is something very WRONG about lifting up a dress when at the urinal.