Saturday, September 09, 2006


I've got a party to go to tonight, a good friend who was at one point the only person in London I knew is having a birthday. I have insisted on being sat next to at least one available woman at supper, it's time to see if I can still talk to strange women. I do hope the skill hasn't atrophed over the last six months.

Tonight my style is going to be a dark blue with lashing of velvet, and I'm not going to shave and thus affect an air of louche danger, I just have to choose my scent for the evening.

Now, what should a very sexy, yet tortured artisté smell like? Probably something with a lot of musk.

I always find it difficult situations like this, one simply has to ask oneself 'What would the Hoff do?'

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