For days of I've been wearing what the wife calls my playing out clothes, a faded contractors polo shirt with breast pocket in, a pair of dark blue "dickies" canvass builders trousers both covered in paint and plaster for doing all those jobs round the house. (maybe more on that later). Today she's working so I'm having a day off, put on a Lacoste polo, crew neck, pair of cords and some Adidas Milano. The hair has grown a bit too long so it looks like Sheridan in his prime. I'm going to settle down and watch either, One Summer, Boys from the Blackstuff, Scully or Auf Wied Pet with a few cans of Draught Guinness. So over the last 35 years my dress sense, hairstyle, viewing and drinking habits have evolved to the square root of fuck all, I'd invite you lads over but I've heard there's a bit of a bug going round and "i've only got six cans" .
