Wax ham!
Mmmmmm... ham in a waxy coating, just like the backwards cheese*
Camping on the beach is all very well, but you do tend to end up with lots of midge bites.
Alas, not lovebites from Missus Midge the hairdresser in her gimp or see-thru apron, unfortunately.
Which would be much more preferable than this damn itchyness!
20 mozzies at least find me irresistable with me new barnet, and have tried feasting on my flesh and have given me the lumpy hands of bitey bloodsnackery - I need Witch Hazel ASAP!
But not Hazel McWitch, out of RentAGhost.
It's bad enough listening to a limp wristed mincing concentrating-on-being camp Nazi espousing their desire to "kiss my poop, ya, eat mein hairy bratwüst, ya I spank ze Max Moseley in the dungeon with the schnitzel", let alone having to listen to maniacal scotchhags cackling such oratory as "Och, there's been a murder with a purple curly-wurly".
Still, a fun time was had by all. And none of us managed to dig an 8ft pit and get buried in it, cox we're not stupid 15yr old blonde bimbos who don't have the sense to stop digging when the pit they're in is taller than themselves and prone to collapsing in on you.
Now time to de-stench the smokey Xym and head to the City for a Starbucks pick-me-up.
And if any passing pretties want to pick me up, feel free!
* ONE DAY I WILL RETURN TO THE SUBJECT OF CHRONOGRAPHICAL CHEESE!
