It's arrived

Note: please read this post while listening to Morning Mood (allegretto pastorale) by Grieg.

The day has come for my journey to Sodom and Gomorrah. I'm packed, groomed to within an inch of my life and ready for what ever the weekend throws at me.

I had to pack rather late last night, even by the time I had got home I was still not in any sort of state to co-ordinated socks. It's over now, and while I may have been a dash excessive on the shirt side of things I think I have a good mix.

I'm wearing my greatest pants, not best. Best doesn't quite convey the sense of wonder and awe that this underwear deserves. What makes them even better is if I decide to jump straight into the pool on arrival at the villa (provided I know where it is of course) they would not let me down in the important department of not revealing too much while still looking good.

Yes, these are very dangerous pants. Of course they have benefits I feel the likelihood of an attack on the flight is greatly reduced while wearing them. At the first sign of a threat to my fabulous undergarments I would be forced to spring into action. People talk about getting between a lioness and her cubs, have no idea of the dangers of endangering a fop's wardrobe.

While my sartorial situation is very much in hand I am still undecided with regards to A. Should I resist the kiss? (this is a rhetorical question ladies before you think about posting something smug) I've devised a few speeches and discarded them for being impossibly annoying. I think I may just take this weekend as it comes and see where the adventure leads me.

I wonder what will happen...