The only pants that actually fit me – and by that I mean the pants that don’t make me look like a pornographic sausage roll – have suffered terrible deterioration. Apparently I’ve developed crotch-rot, because I now have four pairs that are beyond silly to wear and make the hairy leg-flesh look like a ill-cleaned pork kassler; I don’t know how many people I have mentally scarred. Will sit down with sewing machine tomorrow and try to remedy the sad state of affairs, if pants can be said to have states of affairs.
In other news: 1) I went to the gym with Petter last Friday and still can’t bend my legs properly. 2) I get less shit done than I’d like – am tired. Maybe eating poorly. 3) Started running again and my pulse is up at 180 when I run as slow as possible which means that the whole “ærobic excercise” stuff is out the window 4) Jonas, Tobbe and Mark have all visited without me mentioning it here. I don’t know why I’m not updating more often. Blame Twitter. 5) Students of mine might be reading this blog, so expect fewer cock-jokes.
That’s not nearly enough covereage of such an epic visit.
I know, I know. There will be a three part feature coming up. I just need to get into the groove of writing…
To avoid embarrassing cock jokes in front of all class, your students (me) require brand new sew machines and a public exhibition of kate moss wearing your old pants.
This is not blackmailing but the legal advantage of the blogosphere users rights.